


Of The Same Mind

by Yusuke_Uchiha



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 13:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 108,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yusuke_Uchiha/pseuds/Yusuke_Uchiha
Summary: Hawke was killed at Adamant, and Rhanon Lavellan is left feeling responsible for her death. So when Fenris shows up at Skyhold demanding answers, she has little choice but to comply.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been reposted from Fanfiction.net with edits and spelling corrections. If enough people like it, I might write the Trespasser sequel that I've been thinking about for a while.
> 
> Throughout, there will be instances of the elven language used. I will put the translations in the notes at the beginning of each chapter.

Hawke was dead.

Inquisitor Lavellan returned from Adamant fortress with the news that the Champion of Kirkwall, a woman many considered to be a hero, had perished at the hands of the Nightmare demon. When Hawke initially told the Inquisitor and Loghain to run, Lavellan had been fully prepared to face the monster with Hawke and drag her back through the rift and to the safety of the Inquisition soldiers. But as she stared down the beast and ran the impossible odds through her head, she made the only decision she could make. The Inquisitor left Hawke behind to hold off the creature while she and Loghain escaped.

And now she was paying for it.

She walked through Skyhold and heard the whispers of her people, whispers that questioned her decision and some that even blamed her for it. Varric wouldn't even look at her, the dwarf seemingly convinced that there was something else she could have done to save Hawke. She wanted to tell him that there wasn't, that no matter what she'd done, there was no way all three of them could have made it out alive. But then would he blame her for not taking the killing blow herself? Would Varric ask why __she__  wasn't the one who died instead of Hawke? And could she answer him if he asked that question?

She wasn't prepared to find out, so she stayed away from Varric as much as possible, trying to give him the space that she knew he wanted. No matter what she, herself, was feeling, she knew Varric was feeling something far worse. Hawke had been his best friend, one of the most important people in the dwarf's life. She'd followed Lavellan into the Fade and now she was dead, so Varric's blame was well-placed.

Still, she needed something, to speak to someone who wouldn't judge her. And she knew only one person who wouldn't. She flew through Solas' room and up to the library, stopping only briefly when she reached the top of the stairs. She almost smiled at the sight of Dorian standing on his tip toes trying to reach a book on the top shelf. He saw her immediately and said, "You have remarkably little on early Tevinter history. All these gifts to the Inquisition, and-"

She'd never known Dorian to stop a rant right at the beginning, so the look on her face must have been distressing. He moved away from the bookshelf and asked, "Rhanon? What's wrong?"

She wanted to tell him, but she also knew she couldn't do it here, in front of so many of her people. Unlike most of the other people at Skyhold, she didn't have the luxury of letting her emotions show. But, _by the Creators_ , holding it in was taking everything she had.

That's why she went to Dorian. No one understood bottled-up emotions better than the man who'd been forced to pretend to be straight for a good portion of his teenage years. To someone like him, who knew all of the telltale signs, she had to have looked like a pot that was about to boil over because he immediately stepped up to her and took hold of her left hand. Bringing his lips next to her ear, he said, "Come with me."

She didn't answer and simply obeyed, following him as he led her out of the library and toward his quarters. He opened his bedroom door and pushed her in before closing the door behind them. As soon as she heard the "click" of the door closing, she lost control of all of it. Her chest stung more than it ever had, and her whole body trembled from the stress of what was going through her head.

She just kept seeing it.

_"Go, I'll cover you."_

_"What? No way, Hawke! I'm not leaving you here!"_

_"Inquisitor, there's no time to argue! You need to get out! Just....take care of Varric for me, and if you see Fenris tell him... Nah, sod it. He knows."_

She left no more room for argument and charged in before Rhanon could say another word. Loghain pulled at her from behind, urging her to move as Hawke faced down the creature alone. Hawke raised her staff and fired off several poweful spells within the course of a few seconds, but it wasn't enough. One of the beast's claws ripped itself through her back and the last thing Rhanon saw before she was pulled through the rift was Hawke spitting blood.

The image, it was overwhelming, made even more so by who Hawke was and the fact that Rhanon had been the one to open the door to the Fade. In hindsight, she was just as much to blame for Hawke's death as Corypheus, and nothing could have prepared her for the weight that death would have on her conscience. It was overpowering, and it left her feeling more helpless than anything ever had.

She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when she felt Dorian's hands on her shoulders. He was in front of her? She hadn't even heard him move. His steady hands showed her just how wildly she was trembling, and every fiber of her being told her to walk into his arms. So she did. Dorian was no warrior, but his grip was still strong, and his arms offered her the one thing she needed at that moment: security.

Finally, Dorian spoke again, saying, "Rhanon, you need to tell me what's wrong. Let me help you."

She gripped onto the front of his shirt tightly when she shakily answered, "How am I....supposed to make decisions like this....every day?"

Dorian tightened his grip, "What do you mean? What decision?"

Tears stung her blue eyes and her whole body tensed up when she answered, "I left her, Dorian. The bloody Champion of Kirkwall. She's dead because of me."

It took Dorian several seconds to answer. It was hardly surprising. She'd never done this before, broken down and let herself cry. But everyone has their breaking point, and Hawke's death was it for her. Dorian's hands slid up her back and to her cheeks, his fingers resting between her long, red locks. He pried her face away from his chest and turned her chin upward, making her look at him. His hands then fell back to her shoulders when he said, "Stop this, Rhanon. You don't get to blame yourself for this. You have far too much on your plate already."

She shook her head and her eyes hit the floor. Too much on her plate? That was the understatement of the century. She sighed and answered, "That's the point, isn't it? It's all too damned much."

She moved away from him and sat down on his bed, her long, red hair falling down over her face when she placed her elbows on her knees. Dorian wasted no time in sitting next to her, and she said, "How do leaders make these kinds of decisions on a daily basis and still sleep at night?"

She heard him exhale heavily at the question and he crossed his arms when he said, "I'd imagine they just focus on the task at hand and mourn when it's over. That's what I would do, but you're not me. No one can tell you how to deal with what you're given."

She turned her head and peered up at his face, trying to draw strength from his eyes. He smiled at her, and draped one of his arms over her shoulders, pulling her in closer and mumbling, "But I can be here until you figure it out. Take as much time as you need, my dear. I'm not going anywhere."

She couldn't help but smile back. No matter what the situation, the Tevinter always seemed to know exactly what to say. A result, she guessed, of him being such an insufferable people person. At that moment, she was grateful for his extroverted nature, and sat with him well into the night, allowing herself those few hours to pretend everything outside of Dorian's quarters didn't exist.

*****

The letter had arrived a week ago.

Hawke had told Fenris to meet her in Kirkwall at her Uncle Gamlen's house, so that's where he was waiting when the old man gave him a letter with his name on it. It had been years since reading had stopped being difficult for him, so he had the letter read in only a few seconds. As soon as he reached the final line, he squeezed the paper into his fist, threw it to the ground, and stormed out of the hovel, leaving behind a very confused Gamlen.

He tore through Lowtown, bumping into anyone who stood in his way and not caring what they had to say about it. Not that anyone bothered trying to say anything after they got a look at him. His lyrium held a continuous glow, and everything in him drove him toward Skyhold.

He had to know the whole story. Varric's letter had been disgustingly brief and devoid of any of the details he wanted. Why was Hawke in the Fade in the first place? What was this monster that killed her? And why did this Inquisitor, a leader with a reputation for getting things done with as little bloodshed as possible, allow it all to happen?

The Breach didn't matter, Corypheus didn't matter, the Red Templars didn't matter, and the Venatori didn't matter. The only thing that mattered at that moment was that the woman he loved was dead. He'd never hear her voice again, never look into her eyes again, never wake up with her arms around him again. The Inquisition had stolen all of it away from him, and he had to know why.

So he ran. He ran day in and day out, stopping only to sleep and eat. He was going to face this Inquisitor and there was nothing in the world that was going to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas: I'm sorry

Rhanon still couldn't sleep.

It had been weeks since she returned from the Fade without Hawke. She'd managed to get back into the swing of things, even getting in a few chess games with Cullen. But her feet dragged, her eyes were highlighted by the dark rings that were forming around them, and her magic was far less luminous than normal. Ordinarily, she would have let her hair hang down and flow over her shoulders because, as tomboyish as she was, she _did_  enjoy her hair. But even that had ceased to interest her, and she'd taken to tying her red locks back into a tight bun and only taking it down before bed.

The first to ask her about these changes was Cassandra, much to Rhanon's surprise. Rhanon was passing through the main hall on her way to her quarters when she heard the Seeker's voice call out, "Inquisitor!"

Rhanon turned to see Cassandra approaching her from the entrance to the Keep. The Inquisitor stopped in her tracks and waited for Cassandra to reach her before answering, "Did you need something, Cassandra?"

Cassandra instantly wound her hands together and began twiddling her thumbs, a habit she always expressed when she was nervous about something. Rhanon crossed her arms and repeated, "Cassandra?"

The Seeker seemed to jolt to attention and blurted out, "Y-Yes, of course. I apologize. I am just....unsure of how to start this conversation."

Rhanon smiled at Cassandra's nervousness. "You've never had much trouble speaking your mind before, Cassandra. I see no reason why you shouldn't do it now. Please, speak freely."

Cassandra nodded and pried her fingers apart. "Very well. It's just.....I am....worried about you, Inquisitor."

Rhanon's eyebrows raised and she couldn't help the awkward laugh that escaped her lips, "You're worried about me? Why?"

She could see Cassandra shifting her feet, clearly still apprehensive about continuing the conversation. But she stood her ground and said, "You have looked....tired lately. And it seems to me that it started when you came back from Adamant."

Rhanon sighed in annoyance, annoyance at herself for not doing a better job of keeping her distress hidden. If Cassandra noticed it, then other people probably had too, and she couldn't afford to look weak in front of her people. Too many lives were dependent on her success, too many people were looking to her as a beacon of hope and as a hero who would restore order. So she also couldn't have this conversation with Cassandra in the middle of the main hall.

She turned her head and gestured toward her quarters, leading Cassandra toward the door, only to be stopped when she heard a booming voice echo through the room, "DWARF!"

She turned toward the entrance of the keep only to see a white-haired man stomp up to Varric. The man picked up Varric by the collar of his jacket and shouted, "Which one, dwarf!? Which one of them is the Inquisitor!?"

Deciding Cassandra would have to wait, she pushed past the Seeker and toward the shouting man, who she could now tell was an elf. Varric's stubby legs kicked wildly as he said, "Fenris, calm down! This isn't helping anything!"

Fenris? Rhanon knew that name well. On top of reading about him in Varric's book, Rhanon remembered Hawke mentioning him several times, and the Nightmare had even taunted Hawke with him. He was one of the last people Hawke talked about before she died, so Rhanon also knew how important the elf was to her. Taking a few steps closer, she exclaimed, "I am! I'm the Inquisitor!"

The elf's angry green eyes fell on her, and she saw the swirling lyrium in his skin glow a fierce blue as he dropped Varric. She knew from Varric's book what abilities that lyrium gave Fenris, so when he started to approach her, real fear shot through her body. But she also knew she could not back down, nor was she about to let him be hurt. He had every reason to be angry. The love of his life was dead. She could think of nothing worse.

So she lowered her hands to her side and clenched her fists before shouting, "No matter what happens, no one is to interfere!"

Fenris was now standing less than a foot from her, his blood-shot eyes heavy with a toxic mixture of fury, anguish, and exhaustion. The lyrium illuminated his face when he said, "Hawke. Tell me everything. I want to know what happened."

She nodded, trying to keep the sadness from her voice when she answered, "Varric introduced me to Hawke a few months ago. She'd been in contact with the Grey Warden Loghain Mac Tir. Loghain told us that the Grey Wardens had been infiltrated by Corypheus' followers, so Hawke and Loghain tracked them to Adamant. We laid siege on the fortress, and we had nearly conquered it when we were set upon by a dragon, Corypheus' dragon. The beast destroyed the fortress under our feet and I opened a rift into the Fade so we wouldn't all fall to our deaths. We encountered a fear demon that called itself The Nightmare, and it took all of us just to weaken it enough to make it move out of the way. But before Hawke, Loghain, and I could get past it, it got back up. Then Hawke she......she threw herself at it and told us to run. I-"

She was interrupted when she felt Fenris' hand grasp her neck. He pushed her until her back slammed into the door that led to Solas' room before shouting, "So you left her to die!?"

She saw the Inquisition soldiers closing in on Fenris, but she held up her hand, silently ordering them all to stop. She hadn't been prepared for this when she got out of bed that morning, but she knew she had to do something, say something. He was in an immense amount of pain, and he needed to know that Hawke's death wasn't something she took lightly. Keeping her voice as steady as possible, she said, "I didn't have a choice."

He didn't miss a beat and shouted back, "You _did_  have a choice!"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I didn't."

She motioned her eyes toward the hand she was holding up. "Do you see this!?"

His eyes glanced momentarily over to the anchor on her hand, the tool that had helped her seal dozens of rifts. He didn't offer a verbal response, but she could see that he knew what she was talking about. Swallowing heavily, she carried on, " _This_  is the only thing capable of closing the Fade rifts Corypheus has opened all over Thedas. Now if I'd been able to rip this damned thing out of my hand and give it to Hawke, I would have in a _second_. Then _she_ would be the one alive, leading the Inquisition, and __I__  would be the one dead in the Fade. The Creators know I don't like living like this, knowing the only reason _I'm_  alive and she's not is because of this damned anchor. But I had to make a choice. I had to weigh the entire world against the life of one woman."

The look in his eyes shifted, and she could tell what he was thinking before he even said it, so she cut him off by saying, "And you don't have to tell me that she __was__  your world. I know that. And I wish I could bring her back, but I can't. All I can do is try to make sure her death wasn't in vain."

It took several long, agonizing seconds, but the anger in Fenris' eyes eventually lessened, and the lyrium ceased its glowing. His hand fell away from her neck, and he took a step back, finally alleviating the worries of the soldiers surrounding him. But she had one more thing to say, and she had to say it right then before she lost her nerve. She peered directly into his eyes and said, "I'm so sorry, Fenris."

She quickly found that was the wrong thing to say, as he reared his fist back and drove it directly into her stomach, causing her to double over right before his other fist flew around and nailed her square in the jaw. She landed roughly on her side and turned to see Fenris heading toward the exit. He was stopped, however, when Cassandra stepped in front of him, a hateful glare in the Seeker's eyes.

"Let him go!" Rhanon called out.

But the Seeker didn't move, her hand gripped tightly to her sword. Rhanon saw Fenris reach up, about to draw his own sword, and she knew she needed to defuse the situation quickly. So she climbed to one knee and said, louder this time, "That is an _order_ , Cassandra! Let. Him. Go."

She could see that it took everything Cassandra had to step aside and let the elf pass, but she did, and Fenris stormed out of the keep and into the courtyard. Rhanon couldn't imagine where he was going, but she was hardly concerned about that at that moment.

She'd faced the deaths of her people, the survivor's guilt that comes with it, and the sickening feeling of not knowing if she'd done enough to save them. What she hadn't faced before were their loved ones. She'd never been forced into a confrontation quite like that one, and it certainly did nothing to help the intense guilt she was already feeling. No. Fenris had confirmed what she already knew was true: she would forever be blamed for Hawke's death. When the history books wrote about her, they would remember her as "The Inquisitor who killed the Champion of Kirkwall."

That was when she decided that Fenris had had the right idea. She really wanted to hit something. So she got to her feet, ignored Cassandra and Varric as they attempted to ask if she was all right, and left the keep. She'd never been much of a physical fighter, but in that moment she wanted to smash every practice dummy they had into splinters.

*****

Fenris tore across the battlements of Skyhold, hoping that if he ran around it enough times that it might help him calm down. He wanted to be angry with the Inquisitor. He wanted to blame her for Hawke's death and make her the villain of his story so that mourning Hawke would be easier. But he couldn't.

He'd heard the sincerity in her voice when she said she would trade places with Hawke if she could. That, in and of itself, told him that she didn't make the decision to leave Hawke lightly and that she felt the pain of Hawke's loss. So, even though he resented the fact that Hawke was dead due to her involvement with the Inquisition, he couldn't bring himself to hold any ill will toward the Inquisitor.

She was a leader, and leaders sometimes have to make horrible, life-or-death decisions, decisions that most other people just wouldn't be able to make. And they have to make those decisions regardless of their own, personal feelings or the feelings of anyone else. That is what it takes to lead. You swallow your feelings, finish the job, and do your feeling later when there are no lives at stake.

By the time he stopped running, he'd sufficiently cleansed himself of all of the hostility he'd felt toward the Inquisitor, but that just left room for him to start feeling the one thing he'd been trying to avoid: grief. Hawke was gone, really, truly gone. How was he to process such a thing? He'd been there with Hawke when her brother and mother had died. He'd watched her go through the process of grieving and come out the other side just as strong as she'd been before. It was only now that he truly questioned how she did it. How did she move past a pain this utterly consuming?

He had become so convinced that Hawke would be with him for the rest of his life that he'd planned it around her. Now that future was destroyed along with her. As hard as he tried to figure it out, there didn't seem to be any way to get past this. The world was carrying on around him, but he was stuck in this one moment, the moment when he found out Hawke was dead. Because, to him, that was when his world ended, and he didn't know if it would ever start turning again.

*********** **

It was well past sunset by the time Rhanon finally cracked her staff in two and took it as a sign to stop wailing on the practice dummies. To her surprise, no one had dared bother her about anything. She guessed they'd gotten the hint that she didn't want to be disturbed. Hoping to avoid the crowds, she decided she would take the long way back to her quarters, through the battlements.

She stepped up the stairs behind the practice dummies and nearly collapsed from exhaustion when she reached the top. She really shouldn't have done such rigorous exercise with as little sleep as she was running on, but it was far too late to worry about that now. She used the sides of the battlements as leverage as she finally got her footing back and headed in the direction of the keep.

She passed through the first wooden door and into the decrepit room. There was a bed in there, and as old and dusty as it was, she impulsively decided she was going to sleep there. No one would disturb her, and she could sleep away from the bustling of the main hall. She took a few steps closer to the bed, and fell onto it, kicking up a cloud of dust that flew into her nose and caused her to sneeze.

She rolled onto her back and was just about to close her eyes when she saw a blue glow coming from the rafters above the room. The rising moon reflected off of white hair, and she knew who it was. Her eyes darted about the walls as she tried to find where he'd climbed up from. There were stones missing in some places, so she figured he had to have used those spots to climb. Once again, impulsively, she slid out of the bed and approached one of the walls that had the most missing stones.

She slipped her foot into one of the holes and gripped one of the others with her hand and started to climb. It was harder than she'd thought it would be, probably because of how exhausted she was. Still, she kept climbing, only slipping and losing her footing one time. She was nearly there when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She flinched from shock and turned her head to see Fenris standing next to her on a rafter with his hand held out.

"Come on," he said, "I'll help you up."

She didn't hesitate and took his hand, shocked by his ability to pull her as if she weighed nothing. He held onto her until her feet had steadied, and then he returned to his original position. She sat beside him, only a few feet away and stared in the direction he was looking. There was a large hole in the side of the wall that was positioned just right to overlook the mountains around Skyhold. She'd looked at them many times, but even now the majesty of them sent a chill down her spine.

She wasn't sure what she was doing there, or why she bothered climbing up to sit with him, but she was there now, so she figured she needed to say something. But, to her shock, she didn't have to break the silence because Fenris said, "I should apologize for striking you, Inquisitor. That was unworthy of me."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. I've been hit harder and for dumber reasons."

She heard Fenris sigh, and he shook his head before saying, "I've no doubt, but even so, I should not have taken my anger out on you. You are not to blame for my grief."

She hung her head, staring down at the bed beneath her as she said, "Aren't I?"

Fenris turned to her, and she could see the confusion in his eyes when he said, "No. You had to make a decision, Inquisitor. That's what leaders do. They make the difficult decisions and they have to live with them."

She chuckled lightly, trying to cover her sadness with laughter in order to stop the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. She pulled her left knee up to her chest and said, "Yeah, I made a decision, but living with myself......still haven't figured that part out yet."

She leaned her head on her knee, keeping her face turned away when she carried on, "I'll let you know how it goes."

Fenris didn't respond to that, and she could think of nothing else to say. She wanted to talk to him, to try to offer him some kind of comfort, but what could she say? He didn't know her. They weren't friends. They'd only just met that day, and their meeting hadn't exactly been pleasant. Still, she was responsible for the pain he was feeling, so she wanted to do something to make the mourning process easier. Before she was able to think of something to say, however, Fenris piped up again and asked, "What did she say.....in the end?"

That one question brought a weight down on her chest so heavy that she was sure he'd punched her again. Her grip on her knee tightened, and she could feel the tears she'd been fighting start to escape from her eyes. She should have known he would have more questions, but that question...she wasn't prepared for it. However, she owed him whatever answers he wanted, so she swallowed the tears and forced her voice to remain steady when she replied, "First, she asked me to take care of Varric for her. Then... she said, "And if you see Fenris, tell him... Nah, sod it. He knows.""

Though her face was turned away, she saw the blue glow that shone through the room. It grew bright enough that she was able to count the bricks across from her before dissipating back to nothing. When the glow was gone, she finally turned her head back and saw that he hadn't moved a single muscle. How he was able to sit so still and keep his emotions so carefully reigned in, she had no idea, but she envied his ability to do so.

His green eyes raised toward the sky when he said, "Of course she did. Damned infuriating human."

For about a second, when she saw the moonlight reflect off of his eyes, her chest fluttered and her heart pounded just a little bit harder. She hadn't really had time to notice before since their first meeting had been so brief, but Varric's description of Fenris didn't come anywhere close to doing him justice. Even Hawke had mentioned just how gorgeous he was, but now that Rhanon could see what all the fuss was about, she understood why Hawke had become attracted to him damn-near instantly.

His head turning in her direction snapped her back to attention, and her face tingled with heat as she realized she'd been staring at him for far too long. The side of his mouth curled into a half-smile before he said, "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

Sleeping? That sounded really good. Since returning from Adamant, sleep had been fleeting and filled with images of Hawke's face. Her eyelids were heavy, and she knew she could easily fall asleep right then and there if she didn't keep talking, so she quipped, "So it looks as bad as it feels? Good to know."

Fenris seemed to be able to tell that she was about to nod off because he scooted closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder before asking, "Where is your quarters, Inquisitor?"

"Rhanon," she corrected. "My name is Rhanon."

Her eyelids dipped closed and her whole body instantly grew heavier as she finally succumbed to the exhaustion and sleep-deprivation. She felt his arm drape over her shoulders, holding her steady as he said, "Okay, Rhanon. Where is your quarters?"

She was barely conscious but managed to mumble out, "Through the keep entrance....third door on the left. I'll....head there soon."

All she heard before she slipped into a dream was Fenris chuckle and say, "Indeed."

*****

He'd known the Inquisitor was exhausted when she'd initially started climbing the wall to get to him. The climb was not what he would call difficult, and she was a fit woman, so the fact that she struggled at all told him all he needed to know. However, he hadn't expected her to pass out next to him. Now he was in the awkward position of having to carry the Inquisitor to her quarters on his back, and as he carried her across the courtyard and toward the steps leading to the keep, her words kept echoing through his ears.

_Living with myself.....still haven't figured that part out yet. I'll let you know how it goes._

He'd already known that Hawke's death was affecting the Inquisitor, but those words told him just how heavy it weighed on her. She truly thought herself responsible for it, and he guessed that the lack of sleep had come from the survivor's guilt she'd been battling since leaving the Fade.

She stirred only momentarily on the bumpy trip up the stairs but fell back to sleep as quickly as she'd woken up, only managing to mutter out, "Mmm, _Ir_ abelas... Fenris."

He couldn't help but grin at her efforts to speak while she was so groggy. The grin fell quickly from his face, however, when he set foot into the keep and every pair of eyes in there fell on him, and none of them happy. It was to be expected. He had assaulted their leader, after all. Still, he ignored them and went to the third door on the left, as instructed, passing through it and closing it behind him. He followed the path until he finally reached her quarters, surprised to find that the bed was nothing more than a modest twin-size with a plain beige blanket.

He peeled back the blanket and placed her gently in the bed before covering her up to her abdomen. Her right hand flopped over her stomach and she shifted her left arm over her head. The moonlight poured into the room and over her face, illuminating what he could now see were tears in the corners of her eyes. His chest stung at the sight, and he had to stop himself from wiping them away.

When he'd initially set out for Skyhold, he had fully expected to show up, shout at the Inquisitor, and leave. Now, he wasn't so sure. If she cared so deeply for her people that Hawke's death had left her in this state, then perhaps she was a leader worth following. He could easily join her Inquisition, follow her into battle, and take his revenge from Corypheus. He could make the magister bleed for taking away the only person in his life who truly loved him, and help the Inquisitor save the world in the process.

Yes. It was the perfect plan. But he couldn't very well ask her right then and there, so he glanced at the balcony that was connected to her room. It was a fine enough spot to try to sleep, so he walked out of the glass doors and closed them behind him. He slid to the ground next to the door and leaned against the wall, letting his head fall forward as he finally drifted off into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma halam: Basically means "I end you."

_"You let me die."_

_The room around Rhanon was inky black, and no matter where she ran, she found no walls or doorways. She could see nothing, but her ears rang from the voice that continually echoed through them._

_"I was the bloody Champion of Kirkwall. Who even are you? Some nobody from a Dalish clan no one has heard of. Why did I die instead of you?"_

_Her hands flew to her ears as she tried to shut out the voice. But it was fruitless as Hawke's voice stayed just as loud as ever._

_"Fenris and I were gonna have a life together! But you destroyed it all. Why, Inquisitor?"_

_Rhanon felt a hand grasp her shoulder, and she immediately turned only to see Hawke's pale face staring back at her. The Inquisitor's heart raced as Hawke's bloody lips parted and she said, "Why did you let me die?"_

Rhanon's eyes shot open, and she sat up quickly. Sweat was dripping from her forehead and she looked down at herself only to see that her whole body was trembling. She grunted in annoyance and shook her head, trying to shake the dream from her mind. This inexorable guilt, it was a weakness, one she couldn't afford. She needed to get it under control, and fast, lest it start to interfere with her ability to lead the Inquisition.

When she took a look around the room, she finally realized where she was. She was in her own quarters. She knew for a fact that she hadn't fallen asleep there. In fact, the last thing she remembered was dozing off in the rafters with Fenris. Had he...carried her back to her room? The thought made her cheeks hot with embarrassment. That had to have been a sight: the Inquisitor being carried like a baby back to her bedroom. She was never going to live this down.

Hoping she hadn't been seen by very many people, she crawled out of bed and yawned as she stretched her hands over her head. She needed to wash up, so she headed straight to the washroom, peeling her clothes off and tossing them to the side. Glad for her ability to conjure fire, she heated up the water before stepping inside the large metal basin and letting the water swallow her. Her muscles, which had taken a ridiculous amount of punishment the previous night, almost sang when the hot water washed over them. It was still early yet, so she took a few moments to soak in the heat before washing up.

When she finished, she reached for the nearest drying cloth and wrapped it around herself. Her dresser was right next to the washroom door, so she fished out a new outfit. She settled on a blue, silk brocade shirt and a pair of tight-fitting, beige trousers. When she finished dressing, she placed the drying cloth on her head and began drying her hair. The sun was just starting to peak out over the horizon, so she approached the balcony doors and pushed them open, always in the mood to watch a sunrise.

The drying cloth was draped across her shoulders and hanging down on either side of her neck when she moved to the edge of the balcony and leaned her elbows on the railing. The first ray of sunlight poked itself up over the horizon and she grinned as the light spilled over her and warmed her skin.

Her moment of peace was interrupted, however, when she heard breathing coming from behind her. She turned her head and nearly jumped from the shock of seeing Fenris sitting with his back against her balcony wall, fast asleep. His left leg was pulled to his chest, and his hands were hooked around his ankle while his head was resting on his knee and his right leg was outstretched. She wished he'd just wakened her so that she could have shown him to a room, but it was too late now. Still, it was a chilly morning, and she didn't like the idea of him sleeping outside without so much as a warm blanket. Trying not to wake him, she stepped quietly back into her room and went to the dresser to get one of the spare beige blankets she kept there. She carried it out to the balcony, unfolded it, and draped it over him, managing to cover most of him.

She tucked the blanket behind his shoulders, and when she went to draw her hand away, she accidentally brushed his right cheek. She gasped when the lyrium on his chin and neck let off its cool blue glow at her touch. It didn't fade immediately when she pulled her hand away, and instead lingered for several seconds after. She stared on at it until it finally dissipated and felt the same flutter in her chest that she had the night before.

Before she realized it, she was blushing again, and she pried her eyes away before he woke up and caught her staring at him. She turned, left her quarters, and headed to the war room. No doubt there was a backlog of things that needed to be done after she'd spent a good portion of the previous day taking her frustrations out on the practice dummies.

*****

The sunlight crashing against his eyelids was what finally woke Fenris. The first thing he noticed was how warm he felt despite the fact that it had been a cool night when he'd fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and was taken aback by the sight of a beige blanket draped over him. From the color of the blanket, he knew that the Inquisitor had been the one to provide it for him, so he got to his feet and folded the blanket over his arm before stepping back into the Inquisitor's quarters to see if she was still there.

She was nowhere to be seen, however, so he left the blanket on the bed. He was about to exit the quarters the way he'd come in, but stopped when he reached the bottom of the stairs. If people saw him come out of the Inquisitor's quarters after she did, it might give her people the wrong impression. He didn't care what they thought one way or the other, but even a person as socially awkward as him knew the kind of damage such rumors could do to the Inquisitor's reputation. And after the previous day, he knew she was a woman to be respected, so he headed back toward the balcony, peering down over the edge to try to find a place to jump down.

Luckily, there was another smaller balcony right beneath her window, so he dropped down onto it, successfully avoiding being seen by anyone in the process. Once he'd reached the ground, he headed back toward the keep's entrance, hoping to find the Inquisitor and discuss joining.

He passed by the still-glaring eyes of the Inquisition soldiers and found Varric standing by the nearby fireplace, just as he had been the day before. He approached the dwarf, whose eyes narrowed when he spat, "Elf."

Fenris raised his head and nervously scratched the back of his head when he answered, "My apologies, dwarf. I was....not myself."

Varric crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him, "Yeah. That's putting it lightly. You're lucky you're not dead after smacking the Inquisitor around like that. You'd better tell her you're sorry."

Fenris hung his head and took a seat in one of the nearby chairs, staring into the fire as he said, "Already done."

"Good," Varric said, pulling up a chair next to Fenris.

The dwarf reached into the brown pack hanging from his shoulder and drew out a bottle of wine, which he proceeded to place on the table next to a couple of goblets. He filled the goblets before handing one to Fenris. The elf gladly took it and took a swig before Varric finally broke the silence again and asked, "How you holdin' up, Fenris?"

He wished Varric hadn't asked that question. He'd successfully pushed the grief down by focusing on taking care of Corypheus, so he didn't want to be reminded of how much pain he was in. He tilted the goblet back and downed the rest of the wine and answered, "Let me kill Corypheus first, and then I'll let you know."

Varric forced out a chuckle and said, "So I guess that means you're staying."

Fenris leaned forward and filled the goblet again, fully prepared to dull his emotions with wine before facing the Inquisitor. "I'd like to, if the Inquisitor will have me."

Varric finished the rest of his wine and said, "I wouldn't worry about that. She's not one to turn down anyone who wants to help."

Fenris took another drink of his wine, "That is good to hear."

Fenris turned his head to look around the room, hoping he might catch a glimpse of the Inquisitor so he might ask her and get it over with. She was still nowhere to be seen, however, so he set his goblet down and asked, "Where is she?"

Varric threw a thumb over his shoulder and answered, "She's in the war room right now discussing battle plans and politics. No telling how long she'll be in there, so you might as well get comfortable."

Not what he wanted to hear, but he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. She was the leader of the Inquisition, after all. She probably had a thousand things to do every day, and talking to him was likely not one of her highest priorities. So he decided he would sit with Varric and wait. She had to come out of the room eventually.

*****

Rhanon's hands were placed firmly on the war table, supporting her weight and giving her a better view of the map. Her eyes were still painted with the dark circles, and her movements were still sluggish, but she hoped her advisors didn't notice and carried on as normal.

"Cullen," she said, "You'll send a cook to our troops in the Western Approach. I'm sure having a hot meal at the end of the day will do wonders for morale. Josephine, you'll send diplomats to King Bhelen and figure out what he wants. Leliana, you'll deal with the message from this Zevran Aranai since he asked for you by name."

All three of them nodded, and she turned back to the map before saying, "As for me, I'm gonna head out to Orlaise and try to expand our influence a little more. We need to get into the Winter Palace."

She pushed herself up from the table and rolled her neck before saying, "That will be all."

As her advisers started to leave the room, she willed them not to stop, not to ask her about why she looked so damned tired. She couldn't have that conversation, not with anyone. Thankfully, none of them seemed to want to poke that beehive and they left without a word. She followed them out and headed toward the main hall, stopping only briefly to glance at her "throne." There were guards standing to either side of it, indicating that there was someone she needed to judge.

Deciding now would be the best time to get it over with, she approached the throne and sat down. One of the guards went off to grab Josephine, and Rhanon waited, dreading every second of what was about to come.

To her surprise, however, a familiar face caught her attention. His green eyes were staring up at her, and Varric was standing beside him. Fenris looked like he was about to walk up to her, but Varric grabbed his wrist and stopped him, pulling him down to his level and whispering something in his ear. She guessed he was informing Fenris about her duty to dole out judgment because Fenris didn't attempt to move again.

Josephine emerged from her office just as two soldiers dragged in a pale-faced and very rugged-looking Magister Erimond. Rhanon's eyes flared at the sight of him. Just one more person who contributed to Hawke's death. Normally, she hated passing judgment, but this time she was really going to enjoy it.

Josephine held up her clipboard and began, "Here for judgment is Magister Livius Erimond, who remains loyal to Corypheus."

The soldiers shoved Erimond forward, and he stared up at the Inquisitor with hate-filled eyes. Josephine, seeing that he wasn't going to speak, went on, "We discovered him outside of Adamant fortress, offering extreme resistance. I'm sure his crimes do not need repeating as you, yourself witnessed most of them. Due to the nature of his crimes, how much personal grief he's caused you, and how widespread the damage he caused was, many authorities within Orlais and Ferelden have agreed to defer to you, Inquisitor. Make your judgment."

Rhanon stared down at him, and every nerve in her body screamed at her to rise from the chair, draw her staff, and put him down like the dog he was. He deserved nothing less. But she could not simply kill him without letting him, and her people, know why. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and began, "Your crimes cost us much, Magister. You destroyed the Grey Wardens, sacrificed dozens of innocents, and summoned a horde of demons that ripped through a good portion of my soldiers. But that's not all. You toying with forces beyond your control cost us something else."

Her hands clenched into fists and she spat, "You cost us Marian Hawke, The Champion of Kirkwall. She was a hero, a loyal friend, and a brave warrior who fought for order and justice. And your games killed her."

Now the time had come to render the judgment. She was ready to announce that he would die by her sword and cut the man's head off right where he stood. Her words were halted, however, when she looked past Erimond and saw the bright green eyes of Fenris staring back at her. The lyrium in his skin was releasing a faint glow, and she could see it was taking everything he had to hold himself back from ripping out Erimond's heart.

In that moment, an idea came to her. She'd been looking for a way to help Fenris, to somehow alleviate the pain of losing Hawke. While there was little she could do as far as emotional support, she could do one thing for him. She could let him kill Erimond. As much as she wanted to kill the Magister herself, she knew Fenris deserved retribution far more than she did.

So she stood from the chair, fire in her eyes as she finally said, " _Ma halam_ , Magister Erimond. I sentence you to die by my sword."

She could hear the Magister ranting about how he would be "raised to glory" by the fall of the blade, but she ignored him and waited for the soldiers to drag him from the room and toward the chopping block. Once he was in position, she took her sword from Josephine and followed them.

*****

Fenris didn't know he had that level of self-control. When the Inquisitor mentioned Hawke and called the Magister out as being partially responsible for her death, every part of him wanted to reach into the man's chest and yank out his heart. But he held his ground because he knew the Inquisitor would not let the man live. He knew very little about the woman, but he knew enough to know that she took Hawke's death very personal, and, for that, he was grateful.

So when he followed the Inquisitor out of the keep and toward the chopping block, he was fully prepared to watch her decapitate the man and throw his body from the battlements. He took a position next to the steps that led to the block, grinning as the Magister suddenly seemed to lose his nerve. He'd been so adamant about not fearing death, but now that he was faced with the reality of it, it seemed his facade was fading.

He heard footsteps approaching from behind and turned to see the Inquisitor emerge from the keep's entrance, a sword secured to her hip. For just a moment, she stood half-way down the stairs and looked down on the Magister, her eyes alive with resolve. Fenris stared up at her and felt a familiar ache in his chest. She looked.....stunning. She stood proudly, knowing she was revered and respected by everyone around her. He knew then why she seemed to have taken a liking to Hawke. They were very much alike.

She finally descended the remaining stairs and began to walk toward the chopping block. She reached the stairs which led to the Magister, but, to Fenris' confusion, she stopped. After a few seconds, she turned to him, and he didn't attempt to hide the baffled look in his eyes. Her lips curled into a warm smile as she drew her sword from its sheath.

Every hair on his body stood on end when she held the blade out to him, offering him something far more meaningful than she could possibly have realized. He peered back into her eyes, silently asking her if she was absolutely sure about this. She offered no verbal response and simply nodded, holding the sword out another few inches to show him she was serious. He glanced down at the sword, and his hands shook as they moved. He curled his fingers around the cool hilt and lifted the sword from the Inquisitor's tiny hands, his heart pounding with anticipation as he ascended the stairs.

Erimond's shivering had worsened, and Fenris was sure he heard a whimper, but none of that mattered. The Inquisitor had allowed him this. She had given him a greater gift than he could ever have expected, and he wasn't about to squander it by wasting time. He took a step closer and raised the sword, smirking at the Magister right before he swung the blade down swiftly. He heard the satisfying sound of the blade cutting flesh and the equally satisfying "thud" of Erimond's head hitting the boards beneath his body.

The pain of losing Hawke did not lessen even in the slightest, but he hadn't expected it to. What he did feel was a sense of calm. Knowing he'd brought at least one of her killers to justice did more for him than any amount of Varric's wine could have.

He turned in the direction the Inquisitor had been standing, prepared to thank her, but when he scanned over the people in attendance, she was nowhere to be seen. The crowd cleared quickly and a couple of soldiers came in to collect Erimond's remains, but all Fenris cared about was finding the Inquisitor.

He passed the sword on to the nearest servant and immediately began searching for the Inquisitor. Why had she left? She'd gone out of her way to allow him the privilege of performing the execution and yet she didn't stick around to see it through? Remembering the balcony right beneath hers, he ran to the side of the keep and climbed up to her quarters, still trying to avoid the rumor mill. But he did not find her there.

He was more than a little frustrated. It wasn't as if they were friends, so he didn't know where she went to clear her head. But he wanted to talk to her, to thank her for allowing him a small amount of retribution and to finally ask her if he could join the Inquisition. So he kept looking, poking his head through every door he found and even asking a few of the servants if he had seen her.

He finally had a stroke of luck when one of the elven girls mentioned seeing the Inquisitor on the battlements, heading into one of the towers.

One of the towers? He turned and headed toward the tower he'd climbed the night before. He pushed open the wooden door and looked up, finding the Inquisitor sitting on the rafters, in the same spot where she'd fallen asleep. He grinned and shook his head before moving to the wall and scaling the footholds. He turned his head when he was half-way up and saw her looking at him. He threw her a quick wave, and she said, "Well, I'd offer to help you up, but you'd probably wind up pulling me down instead."

He chuckled and climbed the extra few feet before taking his place on the rafters with her. He leaned his back against the wall and quipped, "You're probably right. You weigh almost nothing. It's a wonder you don't wither away."

For the first time since he'd met her, Fenris saw a genuine smile appear on the Inquisitor's face, and she laughed. What surprised him more than the laugh itself was the fact that he was glad to hear it. He hadn't known the Inquisitor long, but it seemed it had been long enough that he cared about her state of mind.

Leaning his back against the wall of the tower, he finally said, "Thank you, Inquisitor."

The shock on her face was evident when she asked, "For what?"

He tilted his head back and said, "For allowing me to perform the execution. It was....unexpected."

She smiled again, and turned her face forward, no longer looking at him when she answered, "Well, I figured I owed you that much. Hawke died on my watch, and that blood stains me more than anything else I've ever done."

He crossed his arms and eyed her intently, trying to guess what leaps of logic she was taking to conclude that Hawke's death was her fault. He didn't want her feeling this way, so he told her, "No one blames you for Hawke's death, Inquisitor."

She scoffed, "Varric does. So do a lot of my people. I hear the whispers. I see the looks. I'm a bit dense when it comes to dealing with people, but I'm not a complete idiot."

Fenris' eyebrows ran together, "What makes you think the dwarf blames you?"

He could see her eyes begin to shimmer with more tears when she answered, "He hasn't spoken to me since Adamant."

Fenris made a mental note to speak to Varric about this. The Inquisitor had enough on her plate without worrying about the loyalties of her companions. For now, though, he said, "I don't believe the dwarf blames you. As for your people, they weren't there. They can't possibly understand why you made the decision you made, so they have no business blaming you."

He leaned forward then, trying to show her he was serious when he said, "Nor should you blame yourself. You'll tear yourself apart if you hold yourself personally responsible for every person who dies because of Corypheus."

As soon as he finished the sentence, the irony of this whole situation suddenly became clear to him. He was the one who had just lost the woman he loved. He was the one in mourning, and yet here __he__  was trying to comfort the Inquisitor. Even now, he still wasn't confident in his dealings with people, but he was fairly certain the roles were supposed to be reversed.

Still, despite the oddity of the situation, his words seemed to help as the pained look in her eyes lessened and she said, "Of course. You're right. I can't allow myself such a weakness. There is too much at stake."

That wasn't exactly what he'd meant, but if she was feeling better then he wasn't about to correct her. Whatever got her back on track was good enough for him. She finally turned her head so that she was facing him again, and he could see that the tears had dried up before escaping her eyes. Her legs shifted and she stood, stretching her arms over her head and turning toward the wall.

"The irony of this isn't lost on me, Fenris," she said, "I'm not going to put you in a position where you have to comfort me again. You're the one who is mourning someone, not me. I should remember that."

Her voice was riddled with self-deprecation, and while he didn't like it, it was refreshing to meet a leader with self-awareness. On top of that, she cared deeply for her people, worked hard to carry everything on her tiny shoulders, and was critical enough of herself to keep herself grounded. Had she not been an elf, he would've questioned whether or not she was related to Hawke because with every passing minute he found more and more traits they shared. But that fact, in and of itself, was more than reason enough to finally ask her what he'd been trying to since that morning.

He stood up as well, and said, "Let me join the Inquisition."

He heard a small chuckle followed by her turning around and facing him again. Her arms crossed and she said, "At least we're of the same mind. I was just about to ask if you wanted to."

He curled his lips into a half-smile. "I'm not going to pretend I'm doing this for the Inquisition, or even to save the world. Hawke was the hero, not me, and she's dead because of Corypheus. So I'll follow you, Inquisitor, as long as all roads you take lead to me being able to make him pay for taking her from me."

She smiled back. "Most of the people who join the Inquisition do so because they lost people to Corypheus. I don't expect everyone to be worried about saving the world. That's my job. As long as you can follow orders and fight, I'm not concerned with your motivations."

She took a step closer to him, leaving only a foot of space between them, "As for Corypheus, you've got nothing to worry about. He's going to die."

He looked back at her, and he could see the understanding behind her eyes. It was a good feeling, knowing that she accepted him exactly how he was and that he didn't have to worry about being judged or reprimanded for his motivations. But now that the formalities were out of the way, he wanted things to go back to normal, so he quipped, "So what happens now? Do I lay my sword at your feet and swear my fealty?"

He could almost see the chill run up her spine when she said, " _Elger'nan_! No! Ugh....no one told me that accepting the position as Inquisitor would result in people bowing to me all the time."

"Accepting" the position? He'd gotten the idea that the Inquisitor hadn't actively sought out her position, but he'd always assumed it was something that just fell into her lap due to her being the only one able to close the rifts. But if she "accepted" the position, that meant it was first _offered_ to her. So, all of the people who followed her, from her inner circle on down to the lowest scullery maid, had _chosen_ her.

If so many people chose her as their leader, then he knew he'd made the right decision to follow her. Even if they never became friends, he knew he could trust her.

And that would be enough.

She turned her head to look out of the hole in the wall and sighed heavily before saying, "I guess I'd better get going. There's a Venatori stronghold in the Western Approach that my spymaster was supposed to scope out for me. If she's found a good enough entrance, I'm gonna need someone with me who _really_ likes to kill blood mages."

Fenris couldn't help the amused grin that painted his face. At least the Inquisitor seemed to be an easy person to get along with. Playing along with her joke, he said, "I'll let you know if I find someone."

She laughed again and said, "See you later, Fenris."

He nodded. "Farewell, Inquisitor."


	4. Chapter 4

"She thinks what?!" Varric exclaimed.

Just as he'd planned, Fenris confronted Varric about his lack of communication with the Inquisitor. As expected, the dwarf did not take the accusation well.

"You haven't spoken to her since Adamant, Dwarf," Fenris said, "Is it really so surprising?"

Varric crossed his arms and smirked before saying, "Guess you and the Inquisitor are becoming buddies, sharing your feelings and all that."

" _Venhedis_!" Fenris cursed. "Just tell her that you don't blame her. But, I'm warning you, if you tell her I said anything, I'll rip out your heart and show it to you."

Varric raised his hand and waved Fenris away, "Yeah, yeah. Wouldn't want the Inquisitor to know you actually care about her. It would ruin your "broody elf" image."

Fenris rolled his eyes and left, determined not to give the dwarf any more ammo to tease him with. He stepped out of the keep and out into the courtyard. On his way out, he noticed a figure who stood out from the rest of the humans and elves who populated Skyhold. From the grey in his skin and the great horns on his head, Fenris knew immediately what he was. Glad to see someone he might actually be able to have a conversation with, he approached the Qunari.

He was in the middle of the sparring ring, face-to-face with a human whose sex Fenris could not determine. Both the Qunari and the human held a shield, and when the Qunari would charge, the human would attempt to push him back, but he/she kept failing and getting knocked back.

Finally, after a few tries, the Qunari snapped, "Come on, Krem! It's not like I'm a small target! Pay attention!"

Fenris chuckled at the statement. Small the Qunari certainly was not. As Fenris looked over him, he saw that he stood taller than the Arishok he'd encountered back in Kirkwall. And he certainly looked stronger, too. Three more tries later, and the Qunari stopped, lowered his shield, and said, "Bah, we're done for now. Take a break."

A frustrated scowl appeared on the human's face, but he/she did not argue and left the shield behind. The Qunari yanked the shield off his arm and tossed it across the ring. He turned and noticed Fenris immediately, and, to Fenris' surprise, he smiled and approached him without even being beckoned. He raised his giant hand and waved when he said, "Ahhh, so you're the new guy everyone's been talking about. You're lucky, elf. Not many people could smack the Inquisitor around like that and __not__  get turned to ash."

Fenris' cheeks went slightly red. He really wished everyone who met him would stop bringing that up, but he also knew that wasn't likely to happen. He'd made one hell of a terrible first impression. Hoping to avoid discussing the issue further, Fenris asked, "What were you trying to teach the human?"

The Qunari glanced over his shoulder, "Oh, Krem? He's always been strong, but he's not very good at blocking heavy hits. It may not look like it, but he _ _has__ gotten better, doesn't stumble back anywhere near as far as he used to."

Fenris half-smiled. "Surprising considering the size difference."

A powerful laugh bellowed from the Qunari. "Yeah, but it's not just that. Krem's had to work twice as hard as my other boys. Overcoming biology is a bitch."

Overcoming biology? The pieces fell into place in Fenris' mind as he finally understood why he'd been unable to tell Krem's sex. He leaned on the wooden railing surrounding the ring and said, " _Aqun-Athlok_."

Genuine surprise painted the Qunari's face when he said, "Not many people on this half of the sea know anything about the Qun. Where are you from, elf?"

He should have known that using a Qunlat phrase would result in questions being asked, but he also knew that a Qunari would not waste time with unnecessary chatter, so he felt perfectly comfortable with telling him, "Tevinter originally, but I spent some time in Seheron as well."

Fenris could see the gears turning in the Qunari's head before he said, "Ahhh. The Fog Warriors, huh? Not a bad bunch if you survive the first encounter with 'em. I'm surprised they didn't rip you in half just for trespassing."

He decided telling the Qunari about the circumstances that led to him being there was a little bit too much information considering they had only just met, so he simply shrugged and said, "I suppose I was lucky."

The Qunari's eyes narrowed, and Fenris could tell that he knew he wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't press the matter further and simply asked, "Well, they taught you about they Qun. Did they teach you how to fight, too?"

Fenris could see where the question was going, so he cut right to the chase and said, "You want to find out?"

The same powerful laugh echoed through the courtyard before the Qunari said, "I think you and me are gonna get along just fine. What's your name, elf?"

Fenris jumped over the wooden fence and moved to the middle of the ring, "Fenris."

The Qunari readied into position. "The Iron Bull. Good to meet ya."

Before Fenris was able to say another word, The Iron Bull charged in, and, for the first time since he'd arrived, Fenris felt a genuine rush as the adrenaline began to pump its way through his veins.

*****

Rhanon had just finished another war council meeting when she was suddenly met with her favorite Tevinter mage rushing up to her and exclaiming, "Rhanon! You really must tell me the story behind this mysterious newcomer."

She giggled and shook her head. "There's not much to tell, Dorian. Hawke was his lover, and he's here to help kill Corypheus so he can avenge her."

She continued to walk toward the exit of the keep, but Dorian just kept following and said, "Oh I know there's more to it than that. Rumor has it that you've been spending quite a bit of time with him since he got here. Not that I blame you. He is rather strapping, isn't he?"

She knew Dorian was only giving her a hard time, but he also wasn't wrong. She'd noticed from day one how unrealistically fetching Fenris was, but she wasn't about to give Dorian the satisfaction of admitting he was right. Instead, she said, "Well, don't let _him_  hear you say that."

They were standing at the top of the keep's stairs when he said, "Why not?"

She laughed again. "You obviously didn't read Varric's book. He's not very fond of mages, and he _really_  doesn't like Tevinters."

Dorian didn't seem bothered by this revelation, however, and answered, "Hah! You underestimate my charm, my dear."

She rolled her eyes and continued down the stairs, stopping halfway when she caught a glimpse of movement down in the sparring ring. Had Dorian not just been talking about how attractive Fenris was, she might not have been so taken aback by the sight, but when she looked down at Fenris, shirtless and sparring with an equally shirtless Iron Bull, her heart nearly pounded through her chest.

Fenris moved with an almost superhuman speed, zipping around Bull and appearing behind him before the Qunari even realized he was gone. Had Bull not been so adept at taking punishing blows, he might have been defeated in an instant. Every few seconds, the lyrium in Fenris' skin would glow, but he didn't seem to be using it, probably because it would give him an advantage over Bull that the Qunari would not be able to make up for.

She wanted to get a closer look, so she descended the stairs, Dorian close behind her and saying, "Oh my, now this is _my_  kind of show. It's about time you took me somewhere nice, Rhanon."

She ignored him and approached the wooden fence, leaning her elbows onto it and watching the fighters intently. That turned out to be no easy task as Fenris moved so quickly that her eyes had trouble keeping up with him. If he was this good in a sparring match, she was looking forward to seeing what kind of damage he could do to enemy soldiers or Venatori. On top of that, he was very easy on the eyes, so it was a win-win.

After a few more minutes, Bull stopped and said, "Hang on, Fenris."

Fenris stopped as well and answered, "What is it?"

Bull pointed at Fenris' chest. "So those weird markings, they keep glowing. Do they actually _do_  anything or are they just there to make you look intimidating?"

Rhanon had to stifle a laugh. It was becoming more and more apparent that none of her inner circle had read Varric's book because none of them seemed to know a thing about Fenris. She was curious to see the lyrium tattoos in action, however, so she stayed silent and kept watching.

She saw a wicked smirk appear on Fenris' face when he said, "Both."

Bull almost looked offended, and he crossed his massive arms before saying, "So you've been holding back this whole time?! _Parshaara _!__  Show me what you can _really_ do, elf!"

On perfect cue, Fenris' lyrium lit up brighter than it had during the entire match, and every person who was watching gasped in awe. No sooner had the gasping died down however did Fenris shoot across the ring far faster than he had before, almost disappearing into a blur of blue and white. Bull turned his head frantically, trying to pinpoint where Fenris was, but he only succeeded in turning in circles. Only after he'd circled Bull three or four times did Fenris finally start throwing out blows, focusing solely on the left side of Bull's body. The Qunari grunted, but it sounded more like frustration than pain. Fenris clearly wasn't hitting him as hard as he could, but it hardly took away from the impressive ability Fenris was showing.

Rhanon decided at that moment that she would definitely be taking Fenris along with her on the next mission. He was making Bull look like a rookie, so she knew he could rip Calpernia's Venatori to shreds. And, as much as she tried to avoid it, she found a blush slowly creeping onto her cheeks the longer she watched him. The blue glow of the lyrium lit up his face, reflected off the sweat that painted his chest and arms, and shone off the green in his eyes. Had she been a weaker woman, she might have found herself swooning. He truly was gorgeous.

While she'd been distracted by her own thoughts, Bull had finally given in, realizing he was no match for Fenris' speed. He released one more powerful laugh and turned to Rhanon, saying, "Inquisitor! Come to see me get my ass handed to me?"

She chuckled in response. "Indeed. I'm surprised at you, Bull. I've seen you take on a high dragon with no problem, but this one elf gives you trouble?"

He smiled widely. "Well, to be fair, a dragon is a _much_ bigger target. But, if you wanna bust my balls, why don't you try your luck?"

She felt her cheeks flush red yet again at the idea. Spar with Fenris? She'd just seen what he was capable of, and she knew she was no match. But now, everyone around was staring at her, waiting for her to jump in the ring and accept Bull's challenge. She sighed. It would not do for the Inquisitor to appear cowardly, so she knew she had no choice but to do as Bull said, regardless that she knew she was about to get stomped into the dirt. So she peeled off her leather battle mage jacket and her button-up overshirt, draping them over the fence and leaving her in her white tank and tight brown trousers.

She threw her leg over the fence and stepped past Bull, whispering, "You're gonna pay for this, you ass."

He smirked. "Looking forward to it."

Bull stepped over the fence and left the Inquisitor in the ring with Fenris. She really didn't want to do this, but she did her best to keep it off of her face. If she had to do this anyway, she was damn well gonna make sure it was fun for the two of them. So she threw out a quick smirk and said, "All right, Fenris. Let's dance."

For just a moment, the look in the elf's eyes shifted to a sharp, painful one, as if the words she'd just said had stabbed him. It faded quickly, however, and he charged in with as much fervor as he had during his fight with Bull. As soon as he threw the first punch, she knew her assumptions had been correct as she only _just_ managed to dodge it by side-stepping.

As quickly as she could, she took advantage of her limber body and rolled quickly behind him, throwing her leg out in a forward arc and trying to trip him. He lept over her leg at the last second, however, and reached for her, taking her by her left arm and twisting it behind her back while pulling her to her feet, seemingly showing her how easily he could pin her. A small flicker of her stubbornness came to the surface when she huffed and slipped her leg behind one of his, tripping him and causing him to fall backward and pull her along.

She landed on his chest and started scrambling to stand when she felt his arm reach up and wrap around her neck, pulling her back down. A shiver ran over her skin when she felt his breath brush right past her ear before he whispered, "If you knew you were no match, why did you agree?"

She scoffed. "I'm the bloody Inquisitor. How's it going to look if I back down from a challenge?"

Throwing her whole body weight forward, she lifted him up into a sitting position and threw her head back, hoping to land a headbutt. He leaned his head away to avoid it, which gave her the opening she needed to slip out of his grip and get back to her feet. This time, she moved first, rolling forward and throwing her fist up to punch him in his belly. She surprised herself when she actually managed to land the hit, but he quickly snatched her wrist and pulled her up.

She gasped when he bent over slightly and easily hoisted her up onto his shoulders. He held her there only for a second before throwing her down onto her back, her head landing between his feet. She grunted at the pain and looked up at him right as he said, "And how's it going to look if you lose?"

"I don't know," she answered, "But I won't let it be said that I was a coward."

She hooked her arm around his ankle, trying again to trip him. He didn't fall for it that time, though, and yanked his foot away. Thankfully, that gave her the precious seconds she needed to get back to her feet. Not that it mattered because he charged at her again, throwing one punch at her face, which she managed to dodge, only to feel all the air leave her lungs at the introduction of his fist to her gut.

As much as it hurt, she did not let herself double over and instead decided it was all or nothing and tackled him. She heard him gasp in surprise before they both toppled to the ground and she attempted to get him into an arm lock. Unsurprisingly, he easily wiggled out of her grasp and flattened his hand before chopping her right in the side of her neck. It stunned her just long enough for him to shove her back and switch their positions. So by the time she got over her daze, he was over top of her with his hands pressed over both of her wrists and his knees holding her legs apart to keep her from moving them.

She could easily have fade-stepped out of his grasp, but as he wasn't using his markings she wasn't about to use her magic. Oddly enough, though, she wasn't upset that she lost. In fact, she found herself smiling and even laughing a bit before saying, "Right. I suppose you win."

He half-smiled and stood, holding a hand out to her as he said, "You did well considering, Inquisitor."

She took his hand and when he pulled her up she asked, "Considering what?"

"Considering you don't spend much time fighting physically," he said, "You're surprisingly agile."

Her cheeks stung with more heat and she moved over to the fence, hopping over it and leaning against it on her elbows. He joined her, and she turned to him before asking, "Okay, be honest. How much were you holding back?"

He immediately cleared his throat and turned his face away, seemingly not wanting to answer her. That told her all she needed to know, however, and she said, "Well, I knew I was going to lose the moment I stepped into the ring, so I don't guess it matters."

There were a few seconds of silence before Fenris finally said, "Does it ever get tiring?"

She chuckled. "Does what get tiring?"

He crossed his arms. "Worrying so much about your image. It has to be taxing."

She exhaled heavily, "Sometimes. But what choice do I have? The mages and the templars have thrown the world into chaos. All of Ferelden and Orlais is looking to the Inquisition to restore order and keep order. And my actions reflect on the entire Inquisition. If I look weak, it looks weak. Comes with being the leader, I suppose."

He turned his head to face her, "You don't sound very happy about it. Do you regret taking the position?"

She shook her head, "It's not regret exactly. I just....never wanted to be a leader. I don't think I'm very good at it."

His eyebrows ran together, "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Well... I guess it's my way of doing things. I don't make my decisions based on who's going to approve or not. I look at the situation and do what makes the most sense logically. That's why I decided to go to the Templars for help with the Breach instead of the rebel mages. The rebel mages were unorganized and led by Grand Enchanter Fiona, the woman who essentially _began_  the mage rebellion by making an ill-timed decision based on emotion rather than what was best for the mages. Whereas the uncorrupted Templars were tight-knit and led by Ser Barris, a level-headed Templar who seemed to take his duties as a Templar seriously. And he proved that when I sent him on a mission to deal with an alleged abomination who turned out to just be an innocent mage. Had Barris been like Knight-Commander Meredith, the mage would be dead, but the mage is alive and receiving formal training thanks to Barris. That told me that I made the right decision."

She paused for a few seconds and sighed before saying, "I wasn't thinking about what the decision _meant_. I just made it because it seemed logical. Then, before I knew it, people were accusing me of "siding with the Templars against my own kind" as if I had been on anyone's "side." Nevermind that I had no bias at all going in, and I looked solely at merit. I suppose a good leader would have foreseen the political outrage and acted accordingly, but I didn't."

She heard him chuckle and turned her head to see him shaking his head. She was about to ask him what was so funny when he said, "You think the fact that you make decisions without bias and without worrying about what a bunch of politically correct busy-bodies are going to say about it makes you a poor leader?"

She opened her mouth to answer but stopped because she couldn't think of a rebuttal. She laughed at herself and said, "Well, when you put it that way, that does sound rather stupid."

"No," he said, "You just give yourself too little credit, Inquisitor. Your people would not have chosen you as their leader if you weren't capable."

It seemed she was unable to go longer than a few minutes without him making her blush. Despite their cold first meeting, she was finding a kindred spirit in him, a person she could talk to without fear of being judged. But, she needed to get away before she, as Dorian put it, "said something syrupy," so she stretched her arms over her head and said, "Well, I'd better go before you inflate my ego any more than you already have. I'll see you later, Fenris."

He nodded. "Inquisitor."

She took her shirt and jacket and started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to say, "Are you ever gonna use my name?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

She rolled her eyes and turned back around, throwing a quick wave as she walked away.

*****

Once the Inquisitor started walking away, Fenris heard Iron Bull approaching from behind him and turned just in time for Bull to say, "She's hot, huh?"

The question caught Fenris so off guard, he immediately said, "I'm....sorry?"

Bull pointed a giant thumb toward the Inquisitor, who was still very much in sight and repeated, "The Inquisitor. She's kinda scrawny, and I'd probably break her in half, but she's hot."

Fenris felt red in his cheeks at Bull's words and said, "Have you no respect for your own leader?"

Bull chuckled. "Naw. I respect her plenty. Doesn't mean I can't think she's one of the sexiest elves I've ever seen. Don't tell me you've never thought about it because I'll know you're lying."

He truly never had thought about such a thing, but he knew telling Bull so would be pointless, so he simply rolled his eyes and said nothing, determined to pretend Bull hadn't said anything. But, his curiosity got the better of him, and he looked in the Inquisitor's direction, scanning her from her feet up to her head.

He'd been crude about it, but Bull wasn't wrong. Now that he was actually paying attention to something besides her title, Fenris noticed things he hadn't before. There was a scar on her left shoulder that resembled claw marks and another on her upper back that ran diagonally down under her shirt. Due to her elven blood, she had a very lithe frame, but the small curves she did have were perfectly shaped. And her eyes, he'd never seen such a shade of blue before. It almost looked like someone had plucked out her eyes and replaced them with sapphires, and the swirling vallaslin that ran horizontally across her cheeks was the same crisp color. Finally, as he scanned over the tight bun she always kept her hair in, he couldn't help but wonder what it would look like if she let it hang down.

Not that any of this mattered. Her looks were immaterial. All that mattered was her skills as a mage and her ability to lead. He'd yet to see anything about the former, but she'd more than proven the latter. Bull, though, didn't seem to be ready to let the subject go as he said, "You know, I think she likes you. You could go for it and she'd probably say yes."

Once again, the Qunari caught Fenris off guard, and he said, "Are you implying....? _Kaffas_! You are the most vulgar Qunari I have ever met."

Bull bellowed out a laugh and slapped Fenris on the back, "All right, elf. You wanna be like that, that's fine. But when you finally decide to go for it, you'll find out I was right. Ben-Hassrath are rarely wrong about people."

Thankfully, Bull walked away and Fenris was finally able to stop the chill that was running up his spine. Since meeting the Inquisitor, having sex with her hadn't even crossed his mind, not only because he was still mourning Hawke, but because he respected the Inquisitor far too much as a leader. How the vulgar Qunari managed to remain friends with the Inquisitor, Fenris wasn't sure, but despite Bull's tactless comments, he'd been a good sparring partner. That meant, at least, that he would no longer be forced to wander Skyhold alone and speak only to the Inquisitor.

He walked away from the sparring ring, confident that his stay here would not be all that bad.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do what, now?" Rhanon said to Varric as she stepped out of the war room.

The dwarf crossed his arms and motioned his head in the direction of the door, "I said I want you to come with me. We need to talk."

Rhanon could sense the upcoming conversation wasn't going to be an entirely pleasant one, so she tried to lighten the mood by saying, "I thought you'd never ask, Varric."

Varric raised his arms in exasperation, "Bah, will you just come on!? This is awkward enough without you making it worse."

She wasn't sure what had suddenly gotten into Varric, but she said no more and followed him out of the door and out of the keep. He led her up to the battlements, and her chest wretched a little when she followed him to the exact spot where he'd first introduced her to Hawke. She turned and looked toward the stairs Hawke had first descended when Varric had said, "Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall." And she grinned a bit when she thought about their first conversation.

" _Varric says you might need my help. But unless there's a group of rampaging Qunari that we need to stop, I don't see what help I'm gonna be."_

 _"Oh, I don't know,"_ _Rhanon quipped. "You became Viscountess of Kirkwall, so you must be doing something right."_

_Hawke laughed and retorted, "A short term to be sure. How can I help you, Inquisitor?"_

Despite the dire situation and despite how little they knew of each other, Rhanon had never gotten along with someone as quickly as she had Hawke. The Champion was both friendly and almost unrelentingly funny, always managing to crack a joke no matter the situation. Even when they first fell into the Fade, the woman didn't stop joking.

_"If this is really the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology. This looks nothing like the Maker's bosom."_

No one else was amused, but Rhanon remembered the goofy laugh that had escaped her lips at the sound of that statement as well as the collective looks from the rest of her companions that said "Seriously? You're laughing?" Hawke couldn't have known it, of course, but that had been the moment that Rhanon had decided she wanted the Champion as a friend, and it was also the moment that she began to truly care for her. A strange moment to think about since she'd so easily left Hawke behind to die in the Fade. Even now, she wasn't sure how she'd made such a decision and also wasn't sure if she ever could again.

Varric turned to her and broke her from her trance when he said, "I've been avoiding this part of the Keep for a while now, almost as much as you've been avoiding talking about Adamant."

Varric's words stung, and Rhanon looked away from him. Of course this was what he wanted to talk about. Cassandra and Dorian had already had their turn, so she guessed it was time for Varric to have his go. She hoped to dissuade him by saying, "Varric, I really don't think-"

He held up his hand, "Shut up and listen. I'm not trying to make you spill your guts or tell me about why you've been acting so weird lately. I already know why, and me prying isn't gonna help you. I just want you to know something."

The tightness in her chest lessened a bit at the revelation that he wasn't going to ask her to talk, and she asked, "All right. What is it?"

The dwarf shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "I don't blame you for Hawke. I never did, and I never will."

She knew her face had to have turned thirty shades of red because she felt the intense heat tingle under her skin. He knew? How did he know? Fenris didn't seem the type to go telling Varric such things, so she was fairly certain he didn't say anything. She crossed her arms and asked, "How did you know?"

He sighed and turned away, "I overheard you and Broody talking. It was only for a minute, but I heard enough."

She exhaled through her nose and approached him, standing beside him and looking out over the keep when she said, "I see."

The dwarf leaned his elbows against the stone in front of him and said, "There's way too much shit going on right now for me to add _more_ shit to it. Same goes for you. You've got about a million things you have to take care of, so don't waste your energy blaming yourself for Hawke."

She knew that was coming. He was just one more in a long line of people telling her not to blame herself, people who just didn't understand how impossible of a task that was. She shook her head and answered, "It's not that simple, Varric."

"Sure it is," he said.

"No," she stated bluntly, "It's really not."

She turned from the overlook and back toward the stairs, picturing Hawke walking down them plain as day and hearing her voice as if she were standing right there. Rhanon's hands clenched into fists and she said, "The _only_  reason I'm alive and she's not is because of this damned anchor."

Varric turned to her and immediately said, "What the hell are you on about?"

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down once before carrying on, "I'm nobody, Varric. Before I got this anchor burned into my hand, I was nothing but a Dalish elf sent to observe the Conclave. I didn't trudge through the deep roads and bring back enough treasure to save my family from poverty. I didn't defeat an Arishok in single combat and save a city from destruction. I didn't restore order to Kirkwall by putting down a blood mage First Enchanter AND a red-lyrium-corrupted Knight Commander. All I did was show up in the wrong place at the right time and pick up an orb."

She turned back to the dwarf, and she could see the look of disbelief on his face, but she ignored it. He needed to know that what he was suggesting wasn't possible, at least not yet. And he needed to know the position she was in so that maybe he would stop trying to convince her to stop feeling guilty. She didn't wait for him to respond and finally said, "If I didn't have this anchor, I would have been the clear choice as the one to die in the Fade, not Hawke. It's just....."

She had to pause only for a moment to try to fight back the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes. When she was relatively certain she'd stopped them, she said, "It's not right that she had to die while a nobody like me is still breathing air."

It took Varric a few moments to answer, which was nothing short of a feat since the dwarf almost always had something to say. But once he'd seemingly gathered his thoughts, he gave her a stern look and said, "Maker's breath, Inquisitor. You really believe that, don't you?"

That wasn't the response she'd been expecting, so she was temporarily stunned and didn't say anything before Varric went on, "Let me do a little recap for you since you seem to have forgotten: You slowed down the Breach long enough to buy us time to figure out how to seal it permanently. You fed, clothed, and protected the refugees in the Hinterlands and even went out of your way to find them a healer. You rescued an entire squad of Inquisition soldiers from the Fallow Mire. You liberated the Blades of Hessarian from a tyrannical leader. You fought your way through an Envy demon's nightmare and came out just in time to save the Templars from being corrupted. Then you sealed the damned Breach, _and_  you faced down Corypheus _with_  his bloody archdemon all by yourself. And you did all that _before_ we named you Inquisitor."

She wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but her mouth may as well have been filled with honey as she couldn't form a single word. It had never occurred to her that those actions of hers were so impressive. She was critical of herself to the nth degree, never seeing herself as particularly amazing or worthy of adoration. In fact, when the title "Herald of Andraste" had been foisted upon her, she'd never been more uncomfortable in her life. Even now, the title "Inquisitor" was odd to hear. Yet here Varric was, praising her for things she had never expected praise for.

And it seemed he wasn't finished, as he carried on, "If you wanna feel bad over Hawke's death, I can't stop you. But don't you dare act like you don't _deserve_ to be alive."

For the first time in a very long time, she felt absolutely subdued. Even if she'd wanted to rebut his argument, she had nothing to say because she knew he was right. Putting less value on her own life was not helping anyone, and despite how briefly she knew Hawke, she knew she wouldn't approve of it either. She was hardly over the guilt, and she thought she probably wouldn't be for a good long while. But, for these few moments, she felt just a little bit better, and that was worth getting a lecture from Varric.

So she smiled and said, "Okay, Varric. You're right. I'm sorry."

To her surprise, Varric reached out a stubby hand and squeezed one of hers tightly before saying, "Don't be sorry. I'd be more worried if Hawke dying didn't bother you at all. Just don't let it drag you down, all right?"

She nodded. "All right."

He then grinned and released her hand before balling up his fist and playfully punching her in the forearm, "All right! Now come to the tavern with me! Got a game of Wicked Grace scheduled and you could use the distraction."

She knew better than to say no and followed the dwarf off the battlements and toward the tavern, a small smile painting her face.

*****

When the dwarf had insisted that he join him in the game of Wicked Grace, Fenris hadn't expected such a large crowd to be waiting for him inside the tavern. Every member of the Inquisitor's inner circle was present except for the spymaster, whom he rarely saw anyway, and the obnoxiously loud elf with the blonde, unkempt hair. So it was no surprise when Fenris saw Varric waltz into the room with the Inquisitor herself on his heels. Her eyes immediately met his, and she smiled.

There was something different about that smile. It looked more natural than any of the others he'd seen. And she walked differently, without the heaviness to her steps that he'd grown used to seeing. It was almost as if a burden had been lifted from her, and since she was walking with Varric, he had an idea of what had happened. Good, he thought. The dwarf actually did as he was told.

His eyes followed the Inquisitor and the dwarf as they took their places at the table. They each sat in the remaining empty chairs, the Inquisitor sitting in the one to his right and Varric taking the one diagonal from her and next to Cullen. The ambassador sat closest to the center, shuffling the deck with an obviously fake innocence. Of all the people there, he guessed she would be the toughest one to read....for everyone else anyway. He said nothing, though, and waited for the cards to be dealt.

It didn't take long for his prediction to come true. The ambassador was clearing everyone else out, even Varric, which surprised Fenris. So he watched her intently, studying her face every round for even a hint of a tell. It took at least five hands and five failed guesses on his part, but he eventually noticed a small, nearly unnoticeable twitch in the ambassador's right eye whenever she would bluff. Knowing that, he was more than ready to clean her out.

Finally, during one round, the others had all folded, and it was down to him and Josephine. The Antivan raised an eyebrow and said, "Surely you don't think you have a chance."

She dropped a few more silver onto the pile in the middle of the table. He briefly glanced down at his hand before raising his eyes to meet hers. It took several seconds, but her right eye twitched. He half-smiled and didn't answer, simply reaching out to drop a gold coin on the pile. But the ambassador wasn't backing down and immediately raised again. He had to applaud her tenacity, but he already knew she was bluffing, so he stood firm and threw in another gold coin.

The resolve in her eyes started to wane, and he could tell that she knew. In the course of a few seconds, he saw the ambassador make a decision, and as soon as the Angel of Death appeared, she lay down her hand without hesitation. Two songs. A poor hand to be sure. He smirked and lay down his own hand, watching the shocked look in the ambassador's eyes when she looked upon the four knights.

Everyone at the table erupted in laughter as he leaned back in his chair. From her place beside him, the Inquisitor leaned her elbows on the table and said, "Well done, Fenris. I didn't think anyone was ever going to knock her down a notch."

He threw a quick grin in the Inquisitor's direction, but Josephine quickly piped up, "Knock me down a notch? Please, Inquisitor, you insult me. Losing once just makes it more fun."

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. "If you say so. But whatever tells you have, he seems to have found them, so I'd say your win streak is over."

"She's right, Ruffles," Varric said. "But I suppose it was inevitable. Fenris _did_  learn from the best."

Fenris scoffed. ""The best?" Not with the ambassador around. Perhaps you should stick to storytelling. You're at least moderately successful at that."

Varric shot Fenris a sly glare and crossed his arms, "All right, elf. You want storytelling, I'll give you storytelling. Did I ever tell you all about the time Fenris got so shit-faced drunk that he mistook a coat rack for a blood mage?"

Fenris' dark eyebrows ran together, and a snarl rumbled in his throat. " _Fasta vas_! I will __end__ you, dwarf!"

From beside him, Fenris heard the Inquisitor laughing before she said, "A coat rack? Really, Fenris?"

He raised his mug to take a drink, trying to avoid answering. Varric wasn't finished, however, and said, "Oh like you're one to talk, Inquisitor. You're the one who went on a drinking binge after we killed our first High Dragon and then started swearing up and down that Bull's horns grew legs, jumped off his head, and walked around the tavern."

At that, Fenris' laughed and accidentally inhaled part of his drink, sending him into a coughing fit. He placed his mug back down and heard the Inquisitor continue to laugh at his expense, completely ignoring the fact that Varric had just told one of her embarrassing stories too.

Across the table, Bull had since taken two empty mugs and placed them over his horns only to pull them off and dance them across the table as if they were walking, presumably acting out what Varric had just talked about in his story. The Inquisitor seemed to notice immediately as a piece of bread flew across the table from her direction and smacked the Qunari in his nose. More laughter bellowed from the people at the table before the ambassador began shuffling the deck again.

Once everyone had come down from their giggling fits, Varric turned to the Inquisitor and said, "You know, Inquisitor. I don't think you've ever told us a story. You have to have plenty being Dalish and all. Come on, hit us with something."

The Inquisitor leaned forward, again when she answered, "Are you sure about this, Varric? Everyone might decide they like my stories better than yours. What would you do then?"

Varric waved his hand dismissively. "Not bloody likely. Now quit stalling and make it a good one."

Fenris turned to look at the Inquisitor, and a blush fell over her cheeks. She reached for her mug, took a quick shot and placed it down before finally saying, "All right, Varric. If you insist."

Josephine had since started dealing out the next hand, and the Inquisitor began picking up her cards as she said, "One year, the clan decided to camp near Kirkwall, not quite at the top of Sundermount, but damned close. The Keeper absolutely forbade any of us from setting foot inside the city for any reason, especially me since there were Templars every few feet."

She paused to take another drink of her ale before carrying on, "Well, being the brilliant idiot that I was, I decided I wasn't going to listen to the Keeper. Wasn't the first time I'd ignored her, and it certainly wasn't the last. I took off one morning while she was still asleep and headed for the city. I followed a couple of urchins through the passageway that led to Darktown, and made my way up through Lowtown and eventually to Hightown. Not sure what I'd planned on doing there, but I remember seeing these two women dressed in these ridiculous purple and pink dresses. I followed them to this house in the middle of the square, and when they went inside, I did too."

Her lips curled into a smile. This was clearly a fond memory. Fenris could also sense it was getting to the funny part because she giggled a bit before continuing, "I wasn't old enough to have my vallaslin yet, so nearly every person I passed mistook me for one of the elven servants. Before long, I was walking around and bringing drinks to a bunch of prissy, nose-in-the-air lords and ladies. Everything was going well until a lord demanded that I bring him an apple tart from the refreshments table. I didn't know what an apple tart was, so I made my best guess and brought him something that looked like it might be a tart. He didn't even bother looking at it before he took a bite, but as soon as he did, he started shouting, "Brie! This is brie! Maker have mercy, I'm allergic! I'm allergic! Help!""

Those in attendance began to laugh, but she wasn't finished yet and said, "His face started breaking out in hives, and the ladies he'd been talking to fainted at the sight of him. I'd never seen so many people scrambling over each other trying to help one man. But the hilarious part came in when I was running away. I overheard one of the servants say that they hadn't even made brie tarts for the party."

The final line was what did Fenris in, and he released a surprised laugh. It wasn't an amazingly funny story, but the light that danced through her eyes when she told it along with the way she'd changed her voice to imitate the nobleman was endearing enough to make the story more entertaining than it normally would have been. Everyone else at the table took turns praising her for the funny story and Varric even joked about stealing it for one of his books before the ambassador turned to the Inquisitor and said, "You really must tell us your reaction when you first set foot into the house. You can't have ever seen such a party before that day if you weren't even old enough for valasllin."

Fenris hadn't been curious about such a thing before, but now that Josephine had asked the question, he wanted to hear the Inquisitor's response. So he turned to her and looked on, waiting for her to answer. Her eyes fell to the table momentarily before raising again and she said, "Well I'm afraid that my reaction isn't as entertaining as what came after, but if you really want to know... As soon as I walked in, I saw several young ladies sitting down without dance partners. Gentlemen would walk past them, and they would look up, hopeful that one of them was going to ask them to dance, but it never happened. When I saw them, I thought, "If I was actually attending a party like this, that would be me." I was always the socially awkward one in my clan."

Varric snorted loudly and immediately said, "You? Socially awkward? Forgive me if I can't picture that."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I was. You couldn't get more than a few words out of me at a time. Probably why none of the men of the clan wanted anything to do with me. There was a stupid, clan-wide superstition about "silence" being some kind of "sign" that a mage was more likely to succumb to a demon. Because shyness is reserved _only for non-mages, apparently."_

Fenris was unsurprised to hear about such a ridiculous superstition from the Dalish. After learning that they buried their dead on the top of Sundermount where the veil was so thin he could feel it on his skin, nothing they did or believed shocked him. What surprised him was the Inquisitor's dismissal of their superstition and the bitterness with which she discussed it. Most of the Dalish he'd known were so steadfast in their beliefs that they would follow even the most ridiculous of ideas or philosophies simply because "their people" followed it. She, at least, seemed to be capable of thinking for herself.

Varric leaned back in his chair and scanned over his cards as he said, "Speaking of socially awkward people, did I ever tell you guys about the time we pranked Merrill?"

Fenris remembered that day. It had never stood out to him as particularly memorable because he had always tried to keep as much distance between him and Merrill as possible. But now, the day was playing through his head with perfect clarity. He saw his group of friends huddled together at a table in the Hanged Man, whispering to each other about how they were going to pull off the prank. It was nothing too serious, just a bit of deception to make Merrill think it was Hawke's birthday and that she'd forgotten about it.

And that was the tipping point. As soon as Hawke's name echoed through his head, his ability to listen to Varric's story vanished, and his heart rate shot up instantly. He felt the change in his expression as soon as it happened and continued to feel it change as Varric went on with the tale. When it came time for Hawke to walk through the door, Fenris saw her as if she were standing there. When Varric skipped the part about Hawke speaking, Fenris' brain filled in the blanks. And along with the memories came a fierce, stabbing pain in his chest that threatened to knock the air right out of his lungs.

 _Venhedis _.__  He wanted to tell the dwarf to shut up, but he also didn't want to let anyone at the table know that something so insignificant was bothering him _this_  much. He didn't know these people, and he wasn't about to let such weakness show in front of them. So he held his tongue and made up his mind to power through it.

But then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The rest of the table was looking either at their cards or at Varric. The Inquisitor was looking at _him _.__  He stole a quick glance in her direction, and in that fleeting second, he saw recognition behind her eyes. She knew. She could tell the story was tearing into him, that it was taking everything he had not to reach across the table and knock the dwarf in his head to silence him. At this realization came a momentary fear. Was she going to say something to Varric? Was she going to tell the dwarf to stop and unwittingly draw attention to the fact that the story was bothering him? He looked at her again, peering into her eyes and silently begging her to stay quiet, to leave it alone.

Then, as if on some kind of cue, the tavern's bard changed her song to one that was significantly more upbeat then the one that had come before it. He saw something like inspiration come over the Inquisitor's face, and she stood from her chair before rushing to the other side of the table and grabbing Varric's arm. She yanked him out of his chair and said, "By the Creators, I love this song! Dance with me, Varric!"

Fenris saw the baffled look on the dwarf's face before he answered, "What the bloody hell? I'm right in the middle of a really funny story here!"

Keeping on a mask of innocence and what appeared to be feigned drunkenness, the Inquisitor said, "Oh come on! You're the one who dragged me to this gathering, after all. I think you at least owe me a dance for all the coin you caused me to lose!"

Varric growled in annoyance. "Fine fine, but I'm finishing my story afterward, you daft elf!"

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. "All right, already. Now dance!"

To the entertainment of everyone present, the Inquisitor and Varric began a ridiculously clunky dance across the tavern floor, made even messier by the fact that Varric was so much shorter than she was. Had Fenris not been reeling from the memories the dwarf's story had brought up, he might have been amused.

Eventually, the eyes of everyone at the table were on Varric and the Inquisitor. Then, as if on _another_  cue, the Inquisitor looked right at him, her eyes meeting his for only a second. No words were spoken. She didn't even move her lips to try to mouth something, but he knew what she was telling him. The look in her eyes screamed, " _Now's your chance. Go_."

He didn't have time to marvel at how quickly she'd managed to come up with the plan to get him out of there without drawing attention to his mental state. He only had precious seconds before everyone around him grew bored of watching the elf and dwarf dance, so he moved quickly and silently. He slipped into the shadows behind the table and moved around to the stairs from the back side. As soon as he reached the top, he bolted out of the back of the tavern and headed to the tower. He needed the quiet of those rafters now more than he ever had.

*****

True to his word, Varric finished the story as soon as Rhanon released him. It truly was a funny story, and if she hadn't been so worried about Fenris, she might have enjoyed it a lot more. She kept the worry from her face, however, and said nothing when everyone at the table started questioning where the white-haired elf had run off to.

After a few more stories from Varric, and a hilarious round of cards where Cullen managed to lose all of his clothes, everyone said goodnight and dispersed. Once she finished laughing at Cullen tearing across the keep's grounds completely in the nude, she decided she wanted to go for a walk. She took the stairs up to the battlements and briefly contemplated going to the tower to check on Fenris. She thought better of it, however, deciding he probably wanted space right now. Not that she blamed him. She was baffled at his ability to hold it together as well as he did. Were she in the same boat as him, she wasn't sure she could be as strong.

In fact, she _knew_ she couldn't be. Since returning from Adamant, she'd been an absolute mess when it came to Hawke, so much so that Varric had been practically forced to give her a pep talk. And she didn't even know Hawke all that well. If she'd loved her as much as Fenris obviously had, she couldn't imagine the state she'd be in right now.

She reached one of the corners of the battlements and leaned her elbows on the waist-high stones that made up the edge of the keep. She peered out over the mountainside and, for the first time since returning from Adamant, she was completely calm. She'd nearly forgotten what that felt like.

The quiet of the night was interrupted, however, when she heard footsteps coming from behind her. She had a guess as to who it was before she even turned around, but he confirmed it when he said, "Inquisitor."

She turned to the white-haired elf and threw him a quick grin, "Fenris."

He stood next to her and leaned on the wall just like she had, not looking in her direction when he said, "I should thank you. You didn't have to help me, but you did."

She shrugged her shoulders absent-mindedly. "No problem. I still owed you, after all."

He shook his head. "You really didn't."

She cocked her head to the side. "You made Varric admit that he doesn't blame me for Hawke, so yeah, I kind of did."

She heard a snarl in his throat followed by, "I should have known the dwarf would tell you."

She giggled softly. "He didn't. You just did."

He sighed, and she heard the sarcasm in his voice when he said, "It seems I am forever cursed to deal with impossible women."

She laughed and answered, "You sure it's _us_  who are impossible?"

He didn't answer, and no words passed between them for several minutes. Ordinarily, she would have found such a silence awkward, but there was something different about this silence. It wasn't that they had nothing to say, it was that nothing _needed_  to be said. There was a quiet, yet unyielding understanding between the two of them that made words unnecessary.

Nonetheless, she wanted to say something, so she exhaled heavily before saying, "I've heard it's always the little things."

She saw the green of his eyes face her direction. "I'm sorry?"

She raised her head to look at the stars, running her eyes over the constellations as she said, "I don't know, of course, because I've never lost someone who meant that much to me. But I've heard that the initial loss is actually the easiest part, that it's the little things that hurt the most. Like visiting a place you used to always visit, or hearing a story you've heard a hundred times. Only it's different this time because she's gone."

As soon as she said it, her face went red and she wanted to take it back. What the hell was she saying? He didn't __know__  her. She wasn't his friend. So why was she saying such things to him? It had to feel half-hearted and inappropriate coming from a person he barely knew. If anything, Varric should be the one saying these things to him. She was about to apologize for being so forward until she looked at him and saw no signs that he'd taken offense.

In fact, an understanding half-smile painted his face when he said, "You're right."

She didn't try to hide her surprise when she answered, "I am?"

His emerald eyes looked out over the mountains. "Indeed. Before she fought the Arishok, Hawke said "Let's dance." It always seemed such a trivial phrase until now."

Horror shot through Rhanon's chest and her face burned even hotter when she thought back to their sparring match. When she'd said "Let's dance," she'd thought the look in his eyes was strange, and now she knew why.

She raised both of her hands up to cover her eyes and said, "Excuse me as I go choke on my own damned foot."

Fenris released a quiet chuckle. "You couldn't possibly have known. And it's not your job to watch what you say in order to avoid upsetting me. This is my burden alone, and it's my job to deal with it."

The last sentence was laced with a sadness that she hadn't heard from him before. He almost sounded....lonely. And from his perspective, it must have seemed like he really _was_ alone in his grief. The only person at Skyhold who knew Hawke, _really_ knew her, was Varric, so he was the only one who could relate to Fenris at all. But Varric was the master of avoiding his problems, so he was hardly helpful. And as much as she _wanted_ to help Fenris, Rhanon knew she was just another stranger in his eyes, so there was little she could do for him.

However, she wanted to offer him something, an open door of sorts. So she turned her head to look in his direction and said, "You're only alone if you __want__  to be, Fenris."

He looked back at her, and blue met green before she went on, "I know we're not exactly friends, and I know Hawke meant far more to you than she did to me, but we do have one thing in common. We hate it for different reasons, but the fact remains that you and Varric aren't the _only_  ones who hate that she's gone."

She feared, again, that she might have crossed a line. He still didn't know her very well, and she knew he wasn't like most people she met. Even if he hadn't just lost Hawke, she could sense he was a person whose trust and respect was hard won, and his friendship harder still. But if he was going to be part of her inner circle, she at least needed the first two. She hoped that, by showing him empathy, that it might be the first step to gaining both of those things.

It seemed she'd been at least partially correct as he crossed his arms and said, "An interesting point, Inquisitor."

She was unsure of what to make of his response. She couldn't read anything on his face or from his voice. She couldn't even draw anything from his posture or body language. It was a bit disconcerting, but if he didn't want her to know what he was thinking, it was obvious that he could keep it from appearing anywhere on his person. That's probably why he was so good at Wicked Grace.

By the following silence it seemed he was done speaking, anyway, so she stretched her arms over her head and yawned before saying, "Well as _invigorating_ as this is, I'd better turn in. Can't fight the forces of evil without sleep."

She took a few steps away from him, and turned back briefly to say, "Goodnight, Fenris."

He gave an acknowledging nod. "Goodnight, Inquisitor."


	6. Chapter 6

Fenris awoke the next morning to the sound of banging on his chamber door. He groaned in annoyance, but dragged himself out of bed anyway, throwing on a pair of black trousers before trudging up to the door. He pulled it open to see who it was, only to be met with the sapphire eyes of the Inquisitor. He saw those eyes quickly dart down to his bare chest before raising back to his face, and he couldn't help the bit of pride he felt at the blush that flushed across the Inquisitor's cheeks.

She immediately tried to move past the embarrassment by saying, "Good morning, Fenris."

He nodded. "Inquisitor."

She smiled awkwardly and said, "It occurs to me that I haven't actually brought you with me anywhere yet. And Bull just got some intel from his Ben Hassrath contacts about a red lyrium shipment off the Storm Coast. The Ben Hassrath even want to team up with us to hit it. You interested?"

He couldn't deny that he was. He'd never worked with a Ben Hassrath agent before, much less multiples. And if any of them were Qunari like Bull, then it was sure to be a great battle.

Bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head, he answered, "Very well, Inquisitor. Let me gather my things and I will meet you at the gate."

She turned and waved. "All right."

She started to walk away, and he was about to close the door to his quarters when she suddenly shouted back, "You can forget to "gather" your shirt if you want to."

He let out a surprised laugh that was so sudden, he nearly choked on his own saliva. Evidently, the Inquisitor was as big of a flirt as Hawke always had been, yet another thing the two women had in common. He didn't exactly hate it, however. If a woman as beautiful as Rhanon Lavellan thought he was attractive, he would take it as one of the higher compliments he'd received. And if she had the confidence to flirt so blatantly, he could get behind that too. Leaders need confidence, after all.

He finished dressing and took his sword before heading out of the door and toward the front gate. He found the Inquisitor waiting there along with Iron Bull and the annoying blonde elf Sera. Had he been a weaker man, he might have groaned aloud at the prospect of going anywhere with the obnoxious woman, but he wasn't a weak man. He decided if he could handle traveling around with Anders, he was more than capable of dealing with a loud, overly-angry elf for a day. At least she didn't let her race be her defining feature like so many other elves he knew.

When he reached the group, Bull was the first to approach him. The Qunari raised his giant hand and brought it down roughly onto Fenris' shoulder. He resisted the urge to wince from the pain as Bull said, "It's about damn time you came with us! Been dyin' to see you do that "rip the heart out through the chest" trick that Varric is always talkin' about."

Fenris rolled his eyes and turned to the Inquisitor, who winked at him before saying, "Scout Harding is supposed to be meeting us on the way there as well, so we'd better get a move on. She doesn't like being kept waiting."

Bull walked beside the Inquisitor as they passed through the gate, and he said, "I don't know, boss. I think Harding is just impatient to see which pick-up line you're gonna try next."

Without missing a beat, the Inquisitor said, "Awww, what's wrong, Bull? Jealous that I haven't saved any lines for you?"

The Qunari scoffed and said, "Ha! If anyone would be getting "picked up" it would be you, boss."

Had she been any other woman, Fenris was certain she would have been offended by Bull's vulgarity, but she was clearly not most women as she fired back, "You spend an awful lot of time talking, Bull. Still waiting for you to make good on it. Or are you too afraid you'll "break me in half?""

For the first time since he'd met the Qunari, Fenris saw Bull's face go red. Knowing the full context, Fenris couldn't help but chuckle as well. From her place at his side, Sera snorted out a laugh and said, "Good one, yeah?"

The Inquisitor playfully patted Bull on the back and said, "You have no idea, Sera."

It continued on that way for the entire trip. Sera or Bull would crack a joke, and the Inquisitor would respond. The only time they stopped joking was when they encountered an enemy. Then, when the battle started, Fenris began to understand very quickly why the Inquisitor had been chosen as their leader. She was as laid back as possible out of combat, but as soon as she knew danger was ahead, her face lost all of its playful luster, and she instantly zeroed in on every threat.

He could tell immediately that she was a powerful mage, but that wasn't what impressed Fenris the most. What truly impressed him was how conservative she was. If an enemy could be defeated without the use of an elemental spell, she took that route as often as she could. In fact, her magic use seemed almost completely limited to crowd-control and support. The only real attacks he saw her use were an occasional lightning spell, and a second spell wherein she would conjure a large boulder to fling at the enemy. It would shatter on contact and knock most enemies to the ground where they were easy prey for him and Bull. Otherwise, she used force fields and barriers to hold enemies in place or a vortex spell to line them up for Sera's shots.

After a particularly arduous battle against a pack of bandits, the four of them decided it was time to take a break. They chose a shaded spot under a few trees, Bull went to fetch some wood for a fire, and Sera took off to hunt some rabbits for food. The Storm Coast was a ways off yet, but Fenris could tell they were getting closer due to the humidity in the air. He could also faintly pick up the smell of the sea, a scent that had long since become one of his favorites despite it initially being so repulsive to him after his experience on Seheron.

Bull returned with the wood, the Inquisitor loosed a small fire spell to ignite it, and they waited for Sera to come back. Fenris distracted himself by running a whetstone over his sword, while the Inquisitor started sharpening skewers to put the rabbits on.

After a quarter of an hour had passed, however, and Sera still hadn't returned, the Inquisitor started to get antsy. She lay down the last skewer she'd been working on and turned to Bull before saying, "She's been gone a while. It never takes her this long to track down a few rabbits."

It seemed she wasn't alone in her worries as Bull said, "You're right, boss. Something does seem off. You want me to go look for her?"

The Inquisitor looked like she was about to answer when a high-pitched scream came bellowing from the trees around them. The three of them shot to their feet and readied their weapons only to see Sera approaching, with what appeared to be a dwarf in tow. The whimpering, blonde-haired dwarf was walking in front of Sera with the elf's bow pointed squarely at the back of her head.

Sera kicked the dwarf in the lower back, causing her to tumble forward and land on her knees in front of the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow at Sera and asked, "Sera? What is going on?"

The archer kept her bow trained on the dwarf as she said, "I found this one sniffin' 'round our camp. She keeps tryin' to tell me she's Scout Harding, but I'd know Harding anywhere. No other dwarf lady with an arse like hers. So I figured she's gotta be a spy or som'thin', right?"

Immediately, the dwarf piped up and said, "N-No! It's not like that, Inquisitor, I promise. I _am_ Scout Harding."

The Inquisitor looked the dwarf up and down and crossed her arms before saying, "No....you're really not. Scout Harding has red hair, freckles, and a scar running across her left cheek. You don't have any of that."

The dwarf held up her hands defensively and answered, "No no no! You're thinking of my cousin _Lace_ Harding. I'm _Jenna_  Harding. You can even ask Sister Nightingale, and she'll tell you. I'm _not_  a spy."

The Inquisitor threw a quick glance at Sera and Bull before looking back at the dwarf. "We have _two_ Scout Hardings? Why the bloody hell wasn't I told about this?"

Bull shrugged his shoulders and Sera immediately lowered her bow before placing the arrow back in her quiver. The Inquisitor held a hand out to the dwarf and helped her stand before throwing a hand over her eyes and saying, "I am _so_ sorry. We really had no idea Lace had a cousin. Seems like something Leliana would have mentioned when she told me "Scout Harding" would be meeting us near the Storm Coast."

The dwarf smiled brightly. "Well, contrary to popular belief, Sister Nightingale  _does_  have a sense of humor. She might have done it on purpose."

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. "Regardless, I think we're going to have to call you Scout _Jenna_  just to differentiate. The last thing we need is something like this happening again."

Once Scout Jenna updated them on the situation at the coast, Rhanon invited her to say with them for lunch. Sera groaned at the prospect of having to find another rabbit, but once Scout Jenna batted her eyelashes at the elf a few times, the complaining stopped. Sera trekked out to the woods, and, just as the Inquisitor had said, it didn't take her long to come back with a bundle of rabbits dangling from her hand.

The Inquisitor set to skinning them while Scout Jenna sat by and proceeded to talk the elf's ear off. Fenris wasn't paying much attention to the conversation, so by the time he finally registered what was being said, the dwarf was asking, "So do you flirt like that with everyone you meet, Inquisitor?"

Fenris' interest was piqued at that question because it was relevant to what had occurred earlier that day. He was interested to hear the Inquisitor's answer and turned to her in time for her to say, "No. Only the cute ones."

Her eyes met his, and she winked at him for the second time that day. _Fasta vas_. He hadn't shown up at Skyhold with the intention of becoming friends with this woman, but with every passing day, it was becoming more and more apparent that she wasn't going to give him a choice. 

Once the rabbits were ready and cooking, Jenna Harding's face went red, and she seemed to come to a realization. She tapped the Inquisitor on the shoulder and said, "So, Inquisitor. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone Lace's first name. You think you could maybe _not_ let her know I told you? She'll have me flayed if she finds out."

The Inquisitor twirled her rabbit around to cook the other side and answered, "Well, that would be a terrible waste of a lovely dwarf, so I think I can manage to keep quiet. Can't speak for everyone else here, but if you bat your eyelashes at Sera a few more times, she might agree."

Sera immediately exclaimed, "Ugh! I hate how you just _notice_ everything! Gonna have to figure out how to nail those pretty eyes of yours shut, Inquisitor."

It was foolish, but at that moment, Fenris almost felt... comfortable. It had been a while since he'd been part of a team. After Hawke was run out of Kirkwall, they had been almost exclusively on the run from Red Templars and apostates who were out for Hawke's head. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to sit around a campfire and listen to the banter of his teammates. It was a good feeling.

*****

After they'd all finished their food, Rhanon asked Jenna to accompany them the rest of the way to the Storm Coast just in case they needed her. The dwarf was more than happy to oblige, and they all went off together. When they arrived at the designated meeting spot, Bull took point and started checking around. He didn't appear to see anything, though, as he immediately came back and said, "Our Ben-Hassrath contact is supposed to meet us here."

"He has," came a voice from behind them.

Rhanon turned and had to admit she was shocked to see an elf appear from beyond the trees. She'd been expecting another Qunari. Bull seemed to be happy enough, however, as he exclaimed, "Gatt! Had no idea they were gonna send you! How have you been!?"

Gatt held his hand out, and Bull shook it before the elf responded, "Soaking wet, Hissrad. Still don't know how you stand living in this part of the country."

Bull chuckled and turned to Rhanon, saying, "Inquisitor, meet Gatt. He's a friend of mine in the Ben-Hassrath."

Rhanon gave the elf an acknowledging nod, unsure of what she was supposed to say. She never had been good at formalities. Gatt was more than happy to fill the silence by saying, "Hissrad's reports mentioned you were a beauty, but I can see his words didn't do you justice."

Flirting? Now flirting she could handle. She smirked at Gatt before turning to Bull and saying, "I don't know if I should be flattered or disturbed that you talk about my looks in your reports to the Ben-Hassrath."

Bull bellowed out a laugh. "Gotta get my kicks somewhere, boss."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Gatt. She crossed her arms and asked, "So, Silver Tongue, what's the plan?"

Gatt grinned a little at the nickname and quickly updated them on the plan. They were two split off into two teams: The Chargers would hit one target, and Rhanon's team would hit the other. Rhanon sent Jenna out to scout and make sure there weren't any surprises waiting for them, and they set out.

On the way, Gatt fell back into shorter strides, and she heard him say, "So, Hissrad tells me you can reach into a man's chest and rip out his heart before he even realizes you've done it."

Without hesitation, Fenris answered, "It's amazing how that's always the first thing people ask me about when they meet me."

Rhanon giggled, "Blame Varric. It's one of the first things he wrote about you in his book."

She heard Fenris grumble before he said, "Remind me to kill him later."

She laughed again but didn't say anything more as they were coming up on the Venatori camp. She could see the red of their tents from between the trees, and she raised her hand to tell everyone to stop. She scanned across the camp and saw at least a dozen men, three of them mages.

She motioned for Sera to come closer, and whispered to her, "Those mages could cause some real damage. I'm gonna hold their arses still, and you stick them full of arrows."

She then turned to Bull and Fenris, "As for the non-mages, you two just do what you do best."

Now that everyone knew their jobs, Rhanon threw up a barrier and charged forward, holding her hands out toward the camp and channeling magic into her hands. At the camp, the archers noticed her and began shooting, but their arrows bounced off her barrier. She smirked and finally released the magic in her hands, wrapping the three mages in force fields that prevented them from moving their arms.

On perfect cue, Sera dove out of her hiding place and swiftly shot three arrows at the mages, killing one instantly, and leaving the other two mortally wounded. Rhanon's barrier was starting to flicker, so she fade-stepped away from the camp and behind Bull and Fenris who had since started charging in. From her place behind them and away from the fight, she cloaked them with the same barrier she'd been using and then focused her magic almost entirely on the two archers. She conjured a rock to toss at the first one and lifted the other into the air before slamming him back down. She heard their bones shatter, and she knew they were out of commission.

With the ranged enemies defeated, she was able to let Bull and Fenris take care of the rest. Just as he had during his sparring match with Bull, Fenris shot through the battlefield like blue lightning, tearing the Venatori in half before they could even zero in on where he was. Watching him fight was truly a marvel, and she wondered why anyone would have taken the chance of messing with Hawke while he was around.

Between Bull's battleax and Fenris' lyrium, the rest of the battle was over within minutes, and Gatt approached what looked like a campfire in order to signal the Dreadnaught. A red flare shot up into the sky, and Rhanon heard the blowhorn echo through the mountainside as the Dreadnaught sailed up to the shore right next to another ship that looked pathetically small next to the massive Qunari vessel. The Dreadnaught fired two catapult shots at the ship, and it instantly caught fire.

Bull bellowed out another laugh. "Ha ha! Yes! This is my favorite part!"

The victory was short-lived however, as Rhanon heard a frantic voice come from behind her shouting, "Inquisitor! Inquisitor!"

Rhanon turned in time to see Jenna rush up to her and collapsed on her knees from fatigue. The Inquisitor knelt down to Jenna's level and asked, "Jenna? Are you all right? What happened?"

Jenna took a few labored breaths, and answered, "Remember how you sent me to look for surprises? Well, I found one! There are half a dozen mages headed toward the beach right now! I think they're going after the Dreadnaught!"

Rhanon felt the snarl move through her throat as she stood back up and walked to the edge of the cliff they were all standing on. She peered down and saw that Jenna was right. The mages were closing in on the Dreadnaught fast. But there was one obstacle between the mages and the ship: The Chargers. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she expelled it. There was no way Krem and the Chargers would be able to take on that many mages.

So she turned to Bull and said, "The Chargers won't survive that, Bull."

She saw Bull's eyes shift to something she'd never seen before. He was worried, afraid even, and she could see him about to reach for the blowhorn at his waist to sound the retreat. He stopped, however, when Gatt said, "Your men need to hold that position, Hissrad!"

Rhanon glanced between Gatt and Bull, waiting for Bull to say what she was thinking. It didn't take him long to glare at Gatt and say, "They'll die."

Rhanon couldn't tell if Gatt was sincere or not when he said, "I know. I'm sorry, Hissrad, but isn't this alliance more important? Think about it!? Is it really worth declaring yourself Tal'Vashoth just to save a few mercenaries?"

That was when Rhanon had heard enough. She stepped between Bull and Gatt before throwing her hands to her hips and snapping, "Let me get this straight, Silver Tongue. You're telling me that this alliance hinges on me sacrificing the lives of my men to save a bloody boat?"

She could see the offense come over Gatt's face when he said, "It's not a "boat," bassra! It's a Qunari Dreadnaught. And yes, if the Dreadnaught falls, there will be no alliance between the Qunari and the Inquisition."

That was all she needed to know. She scoffed and immediately turned to Bull. "If I start sacrificing my people for the sake of politics, I'm nothing but a tyrant. Call the retreat, Bull."

Gatt just barely managed to get out the word, "Don't" before Bull took the horn from his belt and blew it as hard as he could.

Rhanon watched to make sure Krem and the Chargers made it to safety before turning back to Gatt, who was now fuming and saying, "After everything we've been through, Hissrad, and you throw it all away? For what?"  

Rhanon had had more than enough of the elf, and took another step closer to him when she said, " _Lasa adahl su nar masa, Elvhen'alas_. Maybe life has no value to those in the Qun, but in the Inquisition, we don't _sacrifice_ our people. No alliance is worth that, no matter how powerful you are."

She meant it, too. She would have done any other number of things to get the Qunari on her side. They were a powerful people and some of the mightiest warriors in the world. But she'd lost too many people already. Too many lives were on her conscience for her to be adding more.

She could see that Gatt was prepared to say something else, but he seemed to realize there was no point, and threw his arms into the air before storming off, and heading back to his own camp. Rhanon shook her head and turned back to Bull before saying, "I'm sorry, Bull. I never meant to make you Tal'Vashoth."

Bull shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sorry, boss. Let's get back to my boys."

Rhanon was more than happy to comply. She couldn't be done with this place soon enough. Bull was quiet during the journey back, but Sera piped up to ask, "So, Inquisitor. What was that elfy shite you said to the pissbag?"

Rhanon had been wondering when one of them was going to ask her about that. She gave Sera a sly grin when she answered, "I told him to shove a tree up his arse."

While Sera was busy laughing loud enough for them to hear her in Orlaise, Jenna asked, "Do the Dalish _intentionally_ add nature to all of their insults, or is it just a coincidence?"

Rhanon couldn't help but giggle at that. Despite the mission technically being a failure, she walked away with all of her people still alive, and she would count that as a win. She just wished it would happen more often.

*****

When Fenris stepped through the Skyhold gates, Bull announced that he was buying everyone a pint, and he dragged them all off to the tavern. Fenris wasn't in the mood for drinking, so he pretended to drink the first cup, and then waited for Bull to get drunk enough for him to slip away without being noticed. When he got up to leave, however, he felt the Inquisitor's eyes on him. She obviously noticed. He threw her a quick wave, and walked out of the tavern door, leaving Bull and Sera in their drunken stupor.

He was half-way to his quarters when he suddenly heard the Inquisitor call out, "Fenris! Wait up!"

He stopped and turned to find her jogging toward him. When she finally stopped, he said, "Did you need something, Inquisitor?"

She shook her head. "Nothing like that. I just....wanted to apologize."

He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

She raised her hand to the back of her neck and said, "Well, I didn't exactly make a good first impression today. Technically, the mission was a failure."

The woman continued to confuse him. She was obviously a good leader, with the confidence and power she needed to get things done. And yet she was so concerned that she'd made a bad impression that she was seeking him out to apologize? Why did she care so much what he thought?

Crossing his arms, he said, "A failure was the last thing I would've called that mission, Inquisitor, but I have to ask. Why are you so concerned about my opinion?"

He could see the heat appear on her cheeks, and her hands set immediately to fidgeting. The question had clearly caught her off guard. She must have been used to people just accepting her attention without inquiry. When she got over the initial nervousness, she answered, "Well, you're part of my Inner Circle now, Fenris. If I encounter something I'm not prepared for, having different viewpoints helps. And if I didn't give a damn about what you think, well......"

She paused, and he could almost see the sarcasm in her eyes when she said, "Plus you're nice to look at. Don't want to piss you off and make you leave."

He grinned and shook his head. "Priorities, right?"

She laughed. "You know it."

Despite her immediate spiral back into sarcasm and flirting, she really had made a fine point. She understood something that tyrannical leaders never learn: humility. She knew that she didn't know everything, she knew that her advisers and Inner Circle could offer her perspectives she might, otherwise, not have, and she knew how to take those perspectives into account before making a decision. She just kept giving him more and more reasons to believe he'd definitely made the right decision in joining her.

But while they were talking, he did have one more thing to say. He thought back to their battles on the Storm Coast and said, "If you truly want my opinion, Inquisitor, I believe you show remarkable skill at using your magic conservatively."

By the look on her face, he might as well have said the words in a foreign language. She clearly wasn't accustomed to being paid compliments of any kind, or, at the very least, she wasn't accustomed to accepting them. She fidgeted with her hands some more and asked, "What do you mean?"

It was an easy enough thing to clarify, however, so he said, "A good many mages I have encountered seem compelled to use their magic in as flashy a manner as possible. In battle, I have seen mages burn a man alive simply because they could, because they enjoyed the thrill of having so much power in their hands. It is those mages that most often turn to blood magic and become the monsters I encountered in Tevinter."

He paused, trying to stop the boiling that always started in his chest whenever he thought about his time as a slave. Once he was sure it was gone, he went on, "But you are different, Inquisitor. You use only what magic you __must__. Your restraint is.....impressive."

It took her several moments to answer. Not surprising. She'd probably never received a compliment quite like that one before. When she was done fidgeting, she finally managed to answer, "Well, I wish I could say I was doing it on purpose, but the truth is I never really thought about that before."

He shouldn't have been surprised. Of course, it was just something she did naturally. It seemed the woman was one of those people who was just __good__  without really trying to be. There was a time in his life when he found such people insufferable, but now, after all the years he spent with Hawke, he knew of their value. He only wished the Inquisitor would gain just a little bit more self-esteem so that she wasn't constantly fretting over her decisions. If she could do that, she'd be an almost perfect leader.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Well, regardless, that is my opinion. Take it for what you will."

The whole time they'd been speaking, she'd had an awkward grin on her face, but after his last sentence, the awkwardness vanished, and she looked legitimately flattered. Good, he thought, perhaps he could teach the woman how to take a compliment.

She yawned then and stretched her arms up over her head before saying, "Well, if you're quite done making me blush, I'm going to bed. I have to get some rest if I'm going to make up for the carriage wreck that was today's mission."

He nodded, and she started to walk away when he suddenly remembered something he'd meant to ask her earlier. So he called after her, "The heart-ripping thing is __really__  the first thing Varric wrote about me?"

She laughed again and threw a quick glance over her shoulder, "Not the first thing, but one of the first. I'll bring you a copy of the book sometime. It's actually not half bad."

He made a mental note to throttle the dwarf next time he saw him, and said, "Goodnight, Inquisitor."

She waved. "Goodnight, Fenris."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar'din nuvenin na'din, Era'harel: "I don't want to kill you, Abomination."

It wasn't often that Rhanon was disturbed in her quarters, but the following morning, that was exactly what happened when Cassandra burst through her bedroom door and shouted, "Inquisitor! Wake up! Quickly!"

Rhanon groaned and lifted her head from the pillow, immediately moving to fix the mess that was her hair. She glanced over at the stairway leading to her door only to see Cassandra, red-faced and wide-eyed. While tying her hair back up into its bun, Rhanon said, "What's going on, Cassandra?"

Cassandra pointed toward the door. "There is a group of rebel mages outside! They have taken several of our people hostage and the leader says he will only speak to you!"

Rebel mages? Hostages? Ransom demands? _Mythal,_ she'd literally _just_ woken up. She threw the blanket off and rushed to her dresser to throw on some proper clothes, going with a brown leather, sleeveless, form-fitting shirt and a pair of tight yet flexible black trousers. She needed to be able to move quickly if something went wrong in the next few minutes, so she left her leather jacket behind and took her staff from its place against the wall.

She motioned for Cassandra to lead the way and followed the Seeker out of the great hall. Just as Cassandra had said, there were half-a-dozen rebel mages at the bottom of the stairs, each of them holding on to one of the servants. There were glyphs of paralysis under the servants' feet and knives to their throats. Half-way up the stairs stood another mage Rhanon could only assume was the leader. She swallowed heavily before slowly descending the stairs to meet the man, telling herself to be careful. She didn't know this man or what he was capable of, so she had to tread lightly lest she add six more to the ever-expanding list of people who died under her command.

When she finally stood directly in front of the mage, his blood-shot, hazel eyes stared back at her through a layer of black bangs. She knew telling him to release her people would be pointless, so she opened with, "All right, you got me here. Now talk. What do you want?"

The man scoffed. "Straight to the point, huh? Most people would say " _Why are you doing this_?""

She crossed her arms and bit back, "I don't care _why_. There is nothing you can say to justify threatening my people like this. So either tell me what you want or let them go. Nothing else matters."

The man shook his head and chuckled softly before answering, "Amazing how you care so much about six nobody servants, but when it came to helping your own people, you just turned your back."

 _Your own people_. From those three words, she knew immediately what he was talking about. She'd figured the repercussions of seeking out the Templars instead of the Mages weren't over yet, but she wasn't expecting something this extreme. She didn't care about the man's opinion, however, and resolved to show him how big of a mistake he was making. She pointed to the servant on the far left and said, "That is Joshua, the cook's assistant. He brought me my lunch once when I'd been too busy to notice I'd skipped a meal."

She moved her finger down, "That is Melinda. She's the nurse who tends to me and my people if we're injured."

She continued to move her finger down, naming them off, "That is Doran, the butcher, Steffan, the carpenter who also doubles as the horsemaster's assistant, Anna-Marie, the Chantry sister in training who helped Mother Giselle tend to the refugees at the Crossroads, and Lara, the tavern wench who always cuts me off before I get too drunk to walk. _They_  are my people."

She leaned forward and poked the man right in his chest. "But you? Your friends down there? I don't know you. You don't get to call yourselves "my people" just because we can both shoot fire from our hands. Now stop with your pathetic excuses, and tell me what you want."

It seemed, however, that the man was not going to stop talking. He was very adamant that she hear exactly what his grievances were, so she tuned him out, and started taking small glances about the courtyard, trying to size up the situation all the while sliding her hands behind her back. She knew Cassandra was still standing behind her, so she hooked her thumbs together and flapped her hands as if to imitate a bird. Cassandra seemed to notice immediately and turned to walk back into the keep. If Rhanon was going to deal with these mages, she had to be sure there were no more sneaking about, and no one could find that out faster than Leliana.

But now, she had to come up with a plan to deal with the mages in front of her. She could easily take care of the leader, but she didn't know if that would cause his friends to decide the hostages were no longer necessary. She needed a way to protect her people long enough for the soldiers nearby to swoop in and kill the mages before they could move their blades. She could throw up temporary barriers around all six of her people. No. That wouldn't work, either. Her soldiers weren't close enough, and the barriers would drain too quickly since she'd be spreading them so thin. By the time the soldiers got within reach, the barriers would fade and she'd be back to square one.

That was when she saw him, walking out of the tavern, his sword firmly in his hands and his white hair shining against the sun. Fenris. She'd seen him shoot across the battlefield nearly faster than the eye could see, and the mages hadn't noticed him yet. She could throw up the barriers, and he could cut all six of them down before anyone even realized what was going on. If she could somehow get a message to him, let him know what she needed him to do. But how?

The leader had apparently grown tired of her ignoring him, and shouted, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you haven't even been listening. You've never given a damn about the plight of mages, so why would you start now?"

She was getting more than a little annoyed, and said, "I told you I don't care about your reasons. If you and all these other mages want to be victims, that's your business. All I care about is my people, so if you're quite done hearing yourself talk, tell me what the bloody hell you want."

The glare on the man's face became even more intense and he said, "Fine. I'll tell you what I want."

He took a step closer to her, and she saw him withdraw a dagger from his belt. For a moment, she thought he was going to stab her, but instead, he ran the blade across his own hand and smirked before saying, "I want you to hurt as we have."

The pain was as sudden as it was intense. The initial stabbing pain began in her chest and then quickly fanned out to the rest of her body in what felt like an intense burn. And as soon as the burn started, she knew what was happening. The Keeper had warned her about this many times. Blood boil, a favorite among blood mages. She could tell she was screaming because she could feel the vibrations in her throat, but the pain was so intense, so overwhelming that all other senses apart from touch seemed to have shut off. She also felt her knees give out, but, oddly enough, didn't feel herself hit the ground. Luckily, the man only held the spell out for a few more seconds, but when it finally stopped, the pain lingered such that she was unable to get back to her feet.

She could hear the man rambling again, but she ignored him, and instead waited for her vision to clear so she could find Fenris. When she found him, he was standing at the far end of the hostage line, right behind Joshua. She stared into Fenris' eyes as fiercely as she could, and willed her thoughts to reach him. This had worked before when she'd helped him escape from Varric's storytelling, so she hoped beyond hope that it would work now. When she was sure she had his attention, her eyes darted to all of the hostages before she looked back at him. Was that enough? Would he be able to know what she was telling him just from that? She didn't know, but she had to try because she wasn't sure how much strength she would have left if the man in front of her decided to boil her blood again.

So she stretched out her arms and concentrated as hard as she could on forming the barriers. The ground beneath the hostages came alight, and the barriers flared up. They were weak, far weaker than she needed them to be. The blood mage's assault had clearly taken more out of her than she'd initially realized. In that second, she was sure she'd failed, that she had just doomed all six of the hostages to death.

But then she saw the blue glow of Fenris' lyrium, she saw his sword raise, and she saw him rush down the line behind the mages, slicing their lower backs and causing them all to drop their daggers. It happened fast, so fast that the first mage hadn't even fallen before Fenris reached the last one. The cries of pain from his followers caused the leader to turn around and shout, "What!? No! No! What have you done!?"

With her people safe, she now had the opening she needed, so she placed two fingers on her forehead and blasted the leader down the stairs. Two Templars moved in to apprehend the man, and his rambling commenced again. _By the Creators_ , was he incapable of turning it off? She finally managed to shakily get back to her feet, right as the Templars were carrying the man up the keep's stairs. They stopped in front of her, presumably to ask what she wanted to be done with him.

She turned her gaze to the blood mage's face in time for him to say, "How many more of your own kind have to die before you're satisfied!? Grand Enchanter Fiona, the Warden mages, the Champion of Kirkwall! How many more will you sacrifice!?"

 _The Champion of Kirkwall!_  The title rang through her ears and set her blood to boiling for a whole different reason. The man was clearly delusional to blame her for defending herself against Fiona and the Warden mages, but after hearing him mention Hawke, she very nearly drove an icicle straight through his chest.

But she was no murderer, so she snapped, " _Ar'din nuvenin na'din, Era'harel._ So I suggest you shut your mouth!"

If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn the blood mage actually _understood_ her threat as his face went white and he did as he was told. The templars dragged the man away, and Rhanon released a breath she had no idea she'd been holding. It worked out. Somehow, despite how crazy the situation had been, all of her people were alive, and the blood mage was in custody. And if they had any friends hiding in the shadows, she was certain Leliana had already found them, so she knew the danger was past. So she finally allowed herself to relax and be happy that, for once, things had gone exactly as planned

*****

Fenris was surrounded by the six people whose lives he'd just helped save, and he could hear their thanks and offers of repayment for his actions. But he wasn't focused on them. Now that the danger was over, he could see the Inquisitor's knees shaking. The adrenaline keeping her standing had clearly started to dissipate, so he gently pushed past the former hostages and bolted up the stairs just in time to capture the Inquisitor's bicep in his hand and stop her from falling again. She turned her head to look at him as he was draping her arm over his shoulders.

His other hand grasped her about the waist and he said, "Risky plan, Inquisitor. What if I hadn't been able to figure out what you were trying to tell me?"

She shrugged as he helped her back into the keep. "I don't know. I was right in the middle of formulating an _amazing_ plan when a blood mage rudely decided to boil my blood like a kettle of tea."

He chuckled as he headed toward her quarters. "How inconsiderate of him."

When they reached the door, she grasped the handle and pulled it open before he could even move to do it himself. "No kidding," she said, "Now we'll never know how truly wonderful my plan would have been."

Charming was, evidently, the woman's default setting. He led her through the hallway and up the stairs to her quarters. He was about to take her to the bed when she pointed to the couch in front of the fireplace and said, "Take me over there if you wouldn't mind. I don't need to sleep. I just need to rest for a little while."

He did as she asked, and when she flopped onto the couch, she gazed up at him and said, "I'm surprised you didn't argue with me. Most of my other friends would have."

She then lowered her voice and shifted her accent to a poor imitation of Navarran when she said, " _You need to sleep, Inquisitor! You'll heal faster_."

He half-smiled and answered, "You know your own limits, Inquisitor. It's not my place to dictate them for you."

She didn't say anything after that, and he was about to take it as a sign she was done talking when, as soon as he turned to leave, she said, "Thank you, Fenris."

He turned back, and she had pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The light-hearted look in her eyes had vanished, so he knew something was troubling her.

She leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling and said, "Things could have ended a lot worse if you hadn't been there. Really wasn't looking forward to adding six more lives to the list."

She sighed and went on, "But six lives wound up being lost anyway. I swear, I hate this bloody war."

Six lives? Was she saying that she regretted that the six mages had to die? Was she upset that he'd killed them? She'd more than proven that she felt no kinship toward the mages simply because of their shared magical blood, so why did their deaths bother her.

He crossed his arms and asked, "Why do you feel sympathy for the mages who held your people hostage?"

The moment he said it, he realized the question had come out more accusatory than he'd meant it to. He saw her wince at his words, but she overcame it quickly and motioned her head toward the opposite end of the couch, seemingly asking him to sit down.

He complied and was about to apologize for sounding so harsh when she said, "I guess it probably does seem foolish that I feel sorry for them, but I can't help but wonder. Did they hold my people hostage because they were truly evil people who wanted to hurt me? Or did they do it because they'd been fed so much of that blood mage's hate-mongering garbage that they actually believed what they were doing was right?"

His immediate thought was, " _What difference does it make_?" but he was curious as to why she seemed to think there __was__  a difference, so he said, "It shouldn't matter, should it? No matter what the blood mage __told__  them, their actions were still their own."

She shook her head, and her eyebrows moved slightly together when she said, "How can you, of all people, say that, Fenris? You know better than most the power of brainwashing. It's not a difficult thing to do. As soon as I was named the "Herald of Andraste" I could have easily put on a show, acted like I truly believed it, and had people kissing my feet within a few months. And that would have just been by playing off their faith. Anger, sadness, hate, and loss....it's so much easier to manipulate people with those things, especially a bunch of mages who already feel persecuted to begin with."

He had to admit she had a good point. When he was a slave, there was nothing he wouldn't have done for Danarius. That was made blatantly obvious by how easily he turned on the Fog Warriors at Danarius' behest. While it was obvious that his own conditioning had been much more severe, he could see how a similar tactic might be used by a revenge-seeking blood mage to convince a group of weak-willed mages to do his bidding. The Inquisitor was truly something else, able to see past the evils committed by her enemies and see them as people despite what they had done. He might have been worried that such thoughts would make her soft if she hadn't shown she was more than willing to kill when the situation called for it.

He leaned back into the couch and said, "Empathy for the enemy. You're a strange woman, Inquisitor."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really see the rebel mages as an "enemy." Stupid, maybe, misguided, definitely, but not an enemy."

Misguided? Since the mage rebellion started, the only people he'd heard call the mages "misguided" were templars or older, loyal mages like Vivienne. Everyone else seemed content to jump on the "mages are oppressed and templars are evil" bandwagon. Not that the templars were of much help either, but he was immediately intrigued by her line of thought and asked her, "Misguided? I do not disagree, Inquisitor, but I wonder how you would see things between the mages and templars resolved if you were in charge."

Her cheeks flushed red, and she tensed up at his words. He knew he'd asked a loaded question, and he wasn't expecting her to already have an answer ready, but he was willing to wait for her to think of one. She stared at the couch cushions for several long seconds, and he could almost see the cogs turning in her brain until she finally broke the silence by saying, "I honestly don't know, Fenris. I don't claim to have all the answers."

She took a few more seconds, and went on, "I know I've heard the argument that the Dalish don't have Templars or Circles, and their mages are mostly fine. So why doesn't the rest of Thedas do things like we do?"

He knew the argument __he__  would make against such an idea, but he kept waiting, wanting to hear what she would say. She shook her head and said, "It seems to me that would be like trying to hold a dragon with a net meant for a butterfly. One Dalish clan is lucky to have one or two mages born every generation. And we kill the ones who turn into abominations just as fast as the Templars do. But, in the rest of Thedas, mages are everywhere. Some Circles were filled to the brim with mages. And....."

She paused and her eyes fell to the cushions again, "And it's just too damned easy for mages to convince themselves that blood magic is the best answer. Come upon a difficult situation? Do I take the harder, safer route to solve it, or do I cut my hand and make the problem go away in an instant? When you're feeling overwhelmed already, the path of least resistance looks so much nicer, doesn't it?"

As she spoke, he could hear, nearly word for word a conversation he remembered having with Hawke and Anders. The damned abomination was crying about how oppressed he was for the hundredth time that day, and Hawke quickly shut him down by making a very similar argument. It was too bad the abomination wasn't capable of taking the conversation to heart or the mage rebellion might not have been as catastrophic as it was.

She didn't appear to be finished, however, and said, "As much as the rebels might hate it, as long as blood magic and demons exist, we need the Circle, or something like it, to teach mages not to succumb to either of those things and take care of the ones who do. The problem wasn't the Circles themselves, it was how overly-strict some of them were and how little accountability the Templars had. If there had been someone above the Templars to reign them in and to ensure fully-trained mages were given more freedom, Meredith never would have been able to drive the Kirkwall mages to rebellion."

She sighed heavily and turned her head to look at the fire. "Maybe if someone like Cassandra was made Divine? I don't know. I __do__  know that the old way obviously didn't work. And I know it's not right for regular people to suffer or die from a war caused by the failings of the powers that be."  

Had they met ten years ago, he might have been put off by her notion of fully-trained mages being given more freedom, but after Hawke, after she showed him that mages can be good, the idea didn't seem so farfetched. Hawke. This conversation proved to him that, were Hawke still alive, she and the Inquisitor would most likely be best friends. And that was reason enough for him to relent and finally accept that he was going to think of her as a friend whether or not that had been his intention.

Hoping to let her know that without actually saying it, he muttered, "You're just like her."

Her face flushed redder than he'd ever seen it, and her eyes seemed to wander everywhere except in his direction. After a few seconds, she shakily asked, "Is that a....good thing?"

He couldn't help but be amused by that. It was amazing how she could simultaneously be fiercely intelligent and unrelentingly dense. Perhaps the image of her being socially awkward was not so unthinkable after all? He stood from the couch and stretched his arms over his head before glancing at her and saying, "I'll let you figure that one out on your own, Inquisitor."

The playful look in her eye returned, and she threw him an obviously fake glare as she said, "You tease."

He'd been expecting that kind of reaction, so he shot back, "Someone needs to show some restraint to counter-balance your incessant flirting."

She rolled her eyes. "Psh. You like it."

He couldn't deny it, and turned to leave, throwing her a quick wave and saying, "Get some rest, Inquisitor. Perhaps we'll speak later."

He caught her waving back in the corner of his eye. "I _certainly_ hope so. See you later, Fenris."

Damned woman. Couldn't even say farewell without flirting.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a grueling journey, but Fenris had agreed to travel with the Inquisitor, Sera, and Cassandra to the Western Approach. They'd battled their way through not only darkspawn, but giants and Venatori in order to reach a keep Leliana had informed them about. It was being held by a man named Crassius Servis, a minion of Corypheus' who had been smuggling red lyrium and other artifacts back and forth over the Tevinter-Orlaise border. Servis was one of Corypheus' more skilled smugglers, so the Inquisitor had insisted that he be delt with.

It was no easy task to find the man, but when they finally did, he was defeated within minutes, evidently too reliant on his out-of-the-way location and the army of darkspawn and giants on the path to his hideout. Had he been the one in charge, Fenris would have had the man killed on the spot, but he wasn't surprised when the Inquisitor ordered that he be brought in for judgment. After her swift judgment of Erimond, however, he knew she wasn't in the business of going easy on Corypheus' minions, so he was hardly concerned.

They returned to Skyhold with Servis in tow, and Fenris stood by to watch as the Inquisitor ordered the man be brought before her to get his judgment over with. Two Inquisition soldiers went to inform Josephine, and the Inquisitor waited, legs crossed, on her throne. Meanwhile, he could hear what sounded like Josephine's voice echoing through the hallway nearby, in a language he couldn't understand. She sounded almost frantic as if the Inquisitor had interrupted her when she was in the middle of something important.

After a few minutes, however, the ambassador emerged with her clipboard in hand and approached the throne. She scratched a few notes on the papers in front of her before saying, "Here for judgment is Crassius Servis of the Minrathous Circle of Magi. He admits to smuggling red lyrium and magical artifacts to and from Tevinter, and to providing Corypheus with scarcely-known smuggling routes that have made it infinitely easier for Corypheus to bring red lyrium into Orlaise and Ferelden. He also used the same smuggling routes to move other magical artifacts between the three countries without his master's consent. You spared his life despite his crimes, and now the decision of what to do with him is yours."

Fenris watched the look on the Inquisitor's face shift from annoyance to what almost looked like approval when she looked at Servis and said, "Hold on. You're telling me that you essentially stole from Corypheus? That's....actually impressive."

Fenris smirked and rolled his eyes at the Inquisitor's reaction, continually amazed at the woman's ability to remain annoyingly sarcastic at all times.

Servis took a step closer to the Inquisitor and immediately said, "I was hired by a third party. I have no loyalty to him. Might you find that useful, Your Worship?"

Fenris scoffed. Bribery? Really? The fool was going to attempt that? He didn't know the Inquisitor that well, but he knew her well enough to know that she was not the kind of person to be swayed by such things. He waited for her to huff, insult Servis in elvish, and send him off to the nearest jail cell.

But she didn't. In fact, to Fenris' great discomfort, she was staring back at Servis and the look on her face made him immediately believe she was actually considering it. No. She couldn't be. He had to just be imagining things. The woman he'd come to know over the past couple of weeks would not allow a minion of Corypheus' to bribe her.

Yet after a few moments, the Inquisitor leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and said, "All right, Servis. Here's what's going to happen. You will provide my spymaster with _all_ of the smuggling routes you gave Corypheus as well as the source of the red lyrium you've been helping him smuggle. The magical artifacts you've been smuggling without Corypheus' permission will be handed over to the Inquisition to be used against him. And, because you were able to smuggle these items right under Corypheus' nose without him noticing, you will put those skills to work for me. Do all of that, and you can stay out of prison, but you're still gonna be on a tight leash until you convince me that you truly have no loyalty to Corypheus."

 _You can stay out of prison_. Fenris was certain he had to have heard her wrong. He could understand her not wanting to execute him, but to not only keep him out of prison but also let him walk away with what amounted to a finger-wagging?

Servis chuckled and said, "Your Worship knows an asset when she sees one. I agree to your terms."

The Inquisitor then waved Servis away, and the guards led him away and toward the library, presumably to bring him before Leliana. But Fenris was no longer focused on Servis. All he was focused on was the slow-building rage that was expanding in his chest. Servis was a minion of Corypheus', the same Corypheus who tore the world apart and commanded the monster who killed Hawke. And the Inquisitor had allowed the man to say a few pretty words and convince her to let him off virtually scot-free.

Ever since he'd arrived at Skyhold, the Inquisitor had appeared to him as a perfect leader. She cared for her people, came down hard on her enemies, and was demure almost to a fault. But now the shine was gone, and she'd chipped down the respect he'd been building for her by behaving like any other corrupt politician and allowing a criminal to go free simply because he agreed to use his skills to benefit _her_. And after that speech, she gave where she berated the "powers that be," for her to roll over for Servis also made her a hypocrite of epic proportions.

No. He couldn't accept this. He _wouldn't_ accept this. Any man or woman who worked for Corypheus, worked for the man who killed Hawke, deserved nothing less than prison or death, and they certainly didn't deserve to be working alongside other members of the Inquisition. How could she do this? After making it clear that Hawke's death was among one of the greatest offenses Corypheus had committed against her, how could she let one of his minions off so easily?

He didn't know. But he did know one thing: he needed to get away from her, fast. So he did. He took off out of the keep and down the stairs, crashing right into Cassandra when he did so. He ignored her, though, and kept walking, blinded by his anger.

The Seeker didn't appear ready to let him go, however, and called after him, "What is your issue, elf?"

The anger in his chest reached a boiling point at that moment and he spun around to face Cassadra, his lyrium flaring. If the Seeker was intimidated by him in the slightest, it didn't show on her face, which only angered him more. Still, he had enough control, that he bit back, "Don't speak to me right now."

He tried to walk away and retreat to the tower when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Cassandra say, "No. I'm not letting you out of my sight until you calm yourself."

What happened next happened so fast that he could scarcely remember it. He remembered his anger finally boiling over, and he remembered throwing a punch at Cassandra. However, the next few seconds were a blur, and when he finally came back to his senses, he was on the ground, panting heavily and staring up at the last person he wanted to see.

Her red bun had come slightly loose, and her staff was pointed directly at him. Cassandra was standing behind her, sword and shield at the ready. He had no idea how he'd gotten on the ground, or when the Inquisitor had even appeared, but the anger was still present in his chest. He'd trusted her, respected her, and had even started considering her a friend. For her to betray him like this, it was overwhelming.

So when she shouted at him, "What are you _doing_ , Fenris!?" he didn't answer and got to his feet before taking off to his original destination, only managing to catch the Inquisitor's voice as she was asking Cassandra if she was all right.

 _Damned fool, Fenris_ , he told himself. _You should have known better than to put so much trust in someone besides Hawke. You should have known better._

*****

Rhanon watched after him as Fenris fled in the direction of the tower, and when he was out of sight, she turned and said, "Cassandra, what happened?"

The exasperated look in the Seeker's eyes told her all she needed to know, but still, Cassandra said, "I do not know, Inquisitor. After you finished judging the prisoner, Fenris ran into me, and I attempted to ask him what was wrong. Then... I saw his face. I've never seen him look so angry, not since the day he showed up at Skyhold. And I believe you know the rest.

After she'd finished judging the prisoner? She was sure that Fenris had been just fine before the judgment had started. He was even grinning when Servis was brought in. What could possibly have happened in that short amount of time to cause Fenris to deteriorate so quickly? She needed to find out, to slow his roll before he attacked someone else in anger.

From beside her, Cassandra sheathed her sword and said, "I know you and he have become close as of late, Inquisitor, but he is obviously dangerous. Are you certain you wish him to be here?"

If Cassandra had asked her that question yesterday, Rhanon wouldn't have hesitated to say "Of course." But after coming upon him attacking Cassandra for what looked like no other reason than anger, she wasn't sure. She'd thought they were past his violent outbursts after he'd punched her on their first meeting, but if they weren't, if he thought he was allowed to get away with this kind of thing, she needed to put a stop to it.

So she glanced toward the tower and said, "I don't know. Let me go find out."

She started walking away, only to have her wrist grabbed by Cassandra. She turned back to the Seeker in time for her to say, "Wait, Inquisitor. At least let me come with you."

Rhanon shook her head and wiggled her wrist out of Cassandra's grip. "No. I've dealt with more than a few angry men in my life, Cassandra. Believe me when I say that crowding him is the worst thing we could do. I promise. I'll be fine."

Cassandra looked like she wanted to argue more, but she'd long since learned that once Rhanon had made a decision, there was no changing her mind. So she remained silent and stayed behind as Rhanon took off to the tower.

Just as she'd expected to, Rhanon found Fenris sitting in the rafters. Knowing he would probably try to run, she placed wards on both of the doors and prepared to yank him down should he attempt to escape through the hole in the wall and ceiling. Peering up at him, she shouted, "Fenris, come down from there! We need to talk!"

Once again, as expected, Fenris bit back, "No, we don't."

She knew when she agreed to let him join the Inquisition that she was going to face this situation eventually. Nearly every time Varric wrote about Fenris in the book he'd mentioned how stubborn the elf was.

But she didn't get the position as Inquisitor by rolling over and letting people walk on her, so she crossed her arms and snapped, "That _wasn't_ a request! Get down here! Now!"

She saw the blue glow, followed by him immediately falling down from the rafters and landing in front of her. His eyebrows were running together, and his fists were clenched tightly. She hadn't seen him this angry since the day they met, so she knew she needed to find a way to calm him before he actually hurt someone, whether intentionally or not.

But before she could say anything, he bit back, "What do you think I am, exactly!? Some slave you can order around as you please!?"

She felt the rage start to sting her chest the moment those words left his lips. She wanted to punch him in the face for suggesting she thought such a thing, but she pushed it down, knowing that she had to remain calm if she had any hope of calming him.

Keeping here eyes squarely on his, she answered, "You know very well that I _don't_ think that. Now are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you going to keep throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant child?"

He reached for her, and she was certain he was about to grab her by her neck like he did when they first met, but instead, his hands grasped her upper arms as he pushed her back to the wall next to the door she'd entered from. The hateful glare in his eyes almost pierced through her, but she could tell it was only skin-deep. If he'd really been trying to hurt her, she would have known it immediately, and with his emotions running wild, she could easily stop him if she needed to.

But she wasn't about to let him even think he had the upper hand, so she said, "This tactic might work on most people, Fenris, but I'm not afraid of you."

She heard the snarl in his throat before he answered, "You should be."

She couldn't stop herself from returning his glare. "Well, I'm not. So either attack me or tell me what the bloody hell has gotten into you."

She saw a flash of hesitation come over his face at the mention of him attacking her, but it quickly faded into the ever-present scowl. His grip on her arms tightened, and she knew he was going to leave bruises, but she preferred that over having to fight him. With her magic, she knew she could win, but if they went down that path, if they fought each other, she was well aware that it would spell the end of their friendship and the end of his time in the Inquisition. He would never forgive her for using magic on him, and she would never forgive him for raising a hand to her for no good reason.

The words spit like poison from his mouth when he said, "One of Corypheus' minions was standing in front of you, and you allowed him to _bribe_ you into letting him off with a slap on the damned wrist!"

The cogs clicked into place, and his anger finally made sense. He still saw Corypheus as responsible for Hawke's death, so anyone who worked for Corypheus had to be equally guilty by association in his mind. So, in Fenris' eyes, letting Servis off so easily had to have seemed a great betrayal of the bit of trust she'd managed to earn. Had Hawke's death not been still so fresh in his mind, Fenris might have had the presence of mind to realize that Servis' information would be instrumental in helping take down Corypheus, but, as it was, logical thought was clearly beyond him.

She was about to try to explain that to him, to assure him that she hadn't enjoyed letting Servis off any more than he had, but she wasn't able to get a word in before he continued on, "Accepting bribes and taking favors just like the "powers that be." I once knew a man who did something similar, who played the game to his own benefit even if it meant pardoning criminals. His name was Danarius."

When they first met, he'd physically assaulted her. When this confrontation started, he'd basically accused her of being corrupt. But that one sentence: _His name was Danarius_ ; that was the first time he'd done or said anything that _legitimately_ hurt her. She knew he was only saying it in anger and that he would definitely regret it later, but being compared to Danarius, the man who'd put Fenris through hell for years, made her face wilt for a fleeting second.

But she couldn't let his hurtful words subdue her. Regardless of how much he was missing Hawke, she couldn't allow him to think his behavior toward her and Cassandra was okay. He had to know that _she_ was in charge and that her rules were _not_ flexible. So she banished the hurt from her eyes and snapped, "Are you done?"

He didn't say anything, but she could see the shock come over his face right before she pressed her fingers to her forehead and threw him back with enough force to send him barreling into the opposite wall. She heard him grunt from the pain, but she didn't stop and immediately threw a modified crushing prison around him, strong enough to hold him back, but weak enough that it wouldn't actually hurt him, because she didn't want to hurt him. He was still in the process of mourning, and she knew she had to be understanding of that, but he also had to know that there were limits to how much she would accept.

So she took a step toward him, and pointed to the bruise on her right arm, " _This_  is two. You got the first one for free because you'd just found out Hawke was dead and you weren't yourself. You get this one for free because you're still grieving and you didn't cause any real damage to me or Cassandra. But believe me when I say this, Fenris. There will _not_  be a third."

He'd been struggling against the prison before, but when those words left her lips, he stopped struggling and simply stared back, dumbfounded. But she wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot. She took another step toward him and went on, "From the very beginning, I told you that I make decisions based on what is the most logical, not based on the opinions of everyone around me. Honestly, do you really think Solas agreed with my decision to seek help from the Templars over the Mages? Do you think Dorian did? Absolutely not, but I made the decision anyway because it made the most sense."

She took one more step and decided that was close enough. She continued to stare him in his eyes as she said, "This decision was no different. Servis knew Corypheus' smuggling routes, the routes he uses to move red lyrium around, the __same__  red lyrium that keeps creating Red Templars. You know what that means? We can cut off those routes and blow a giant hole in Corypheus' red lyrium supply. And we get powerful magical artifacts that we can use as weapons against Corypheus and his forces. Could I have tortured the information out of Servis? Maybe. But this way, I knew I was guaranteed to get what I needed. Flies with honey, and all that. It was the most logical decision!"

Her hands moved to her hips, and she went on, "You knew this about me. You knew that I let logic, not feelings, dictate my decisions. You even respected me for it. But now that I've made a decision __you__ don't like, suddenly you don't respect me anymore, to the point that you think it's okay to leave bruises on me."

As every word passed her lips, she could see the look on his face shift more and more until the rage vanished completely and regret slowly started sprouting in its place. Good. Now she just had to make sure he knew the boundaries, so she crossed her arms and said, "You're angry. I get that. You're grieving. I get that. But _this_? This is _not_ okay, Fenris. I can't have you here if, every time I turn my back, I have to worry about you getting triggered into one of these episodes. Now I don't expect you to be made of stone. I don't expect you to bottle this anger and grief up until it explodes, but I _do_  expect you to find a way to deal with it that _doesn't_  involve attacking me or my people. If you can't do that, then leave and don't come back because I'm _not_  going to be responsible for you if you can't control yourself."

His eyes had since fallen to the floor beneath him, and the shame was evident on his face. It hadn't been fun, but she had managed to calm him down enough that she felt perfectly comfortable with lowering the prison. When he had full control of his limbs again, he climbed to his feet and she could see him about to say something, but she held up a hand to stop him and said, "Not yet. Come see me later, when we've both had a chance to cool down."

With that, she turned and left the tower, knowing that she'd either earned back his respect or lost it forever. She hoped it was the former because she really did not want to see him leave.

*****

The moment the Inquisitor closed the door behind her, Fenris wanted to go to the nearest wall and slam his head into it over and over.

_You let him bribe you._

_Accepting bribes and taking favors just like the "powers that be."_

_His name was Danarius._

How could he have said such things to her? She'd made a brilliant, logical decision that was probably going to result in crippling Corypheus' army and the creation of new, powerful weapons for them to use against the Magister. While __he__  had been so focused on __who__  Servis worked for, that he hadn't been able to see the man's usefulness to their cause.

 _This is why she's the leader and you're not_ , he told himself. She immediately saw a way to turn an enemy into an asset, and took it without hesitation, while he only saw an enemy. And he'd effectively punished her for that intelligence by letting his feelings cloud his judgment. It was no different than when he'd jumped to conclusions and accused Hawke of taking advantage of Orana when she'd actually planned on giving the former slave a job the whole time. He'd felt incredibly stupid when he'd realized he'd gotten angry for no reason, and he felt equally stupid now.

How was he going to fix this? Not only had he said unforgivable things to the Inquisitor, but he'd assaulted her again, right after he'd assaulted Cassandra. When did this happen? When did he deteriorate back into the violent, angry man he'd been before he fell in love with Hawke? Was her absence really all it took for him to fall back on old habits so quickly?

Hawke. What would she think if she saw him now? He scoffed. That was an easy question. She'd be disappointed in him. This was the _last_ thing she would have wanted, for him to let the grief of her death drive him back into the unfeeling person he was before.

"What would you do, Hawke?" he said to no one.

He could almost hear her shout at him, " _Go tell her you're sorry, you idiot _!__ "

That was definitely something she'd say. Everything was always so simple in Hawke's mind. Break something? Fix it. Hurt someone? Apologize. Someone tries to kill you? Kill them. And this would be an equally simple thing for her. She'd go up to the Inquisitor, apologize for being a "colossal prig" and offer to buy her a drink.

So that was what he would do, minus the drink. But first, he would give the Inquisitor the space she'd asked for. He owed her that much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felasil: "Fool."

During one of her daily strolls through the keep, Rhanon had a realization. It had been two days since their fight, and Fenris still hadn't attempted to speak to her. She _had_ asked him to wait until she'd calmed down, but she hadn't expected him to wait _this_  long. Nor had she expected him to stay so distant. The only reason she knew he was even still there was because she'd caught fleeting glimpses of him when she would pass through the keep or walk across the courtyard.

Had she been too harsh with him? She thought she'd been pretty reasonable, but it was possible that he was avoiding speaking to her because he didn't think there was a point. She didn't want that, and she wished she could somehow let him know that it was okay to apologize without actually telling him so. The last thing she was about to do was approach him first and admit that she wanted things to go back to normal so she could actually talk to him again. _She_  was the wounded party here, after all. _He_  should be begging to talk to _her_.

The thought immediately made her laugh at herself. Fenris? Begging? Not bloody likely. Still, she truly did want things to go back to normal. She enjoyed talking to him and working with him, and it seemed like they were becoming friends before this unfortunate situation happened. She passed through the great hall, and out of the entrance just in time to catch Fenris walking into the tavern with Varric. She sighed and tried to put it out of her mind as she descended the stairs.

When she reached the bottom, she was met by the high-pitched voice of Jenna Harding exclaiming, "Inquisitor!"

Rhanon turned to find Jenna sprinting toward her from the tavern. She didn't remember seeing the dwarf come out of there, but waved nonetheless and said, "Hi, Jenna. What's going on?"

The dwarf grinned and said, "Nothing, yet. But Sister Nightengale said that she's been looking into some Temple that Corypheus has been using as a base."

Rhanon knew what she was talking about immediately. She'd ordered Leliana to plant a shaperate crystal in Calpernia's lair weeks ago, and they'd learned about the Temple of Dumat from that. The only challenge was finding the Temple, and they hadn't been successful yet.

"The Temple of Dumat," Rhanon answered. "What about it?"

The overly-excitable dwarf clapped her hands together a couple of times and exclaimed, "Sister Nightengale said that when she finds it, she's going to send me along with you to check it out, just in case anything was to go wrong, of course."

Rhanon smiled back. She certainly wasn't going to complain about Jenna coming along. During their first meeting, she'd discovered the dwarf was up there with Dagna in the "charming" department. She only hoped Jenna's wit and humor would be all she'd be needed for.

Placing a hand on Jenna's shoulder, Rhanon said, "Well, good. Just _do_ try to stay off the battlefield. You are just a tad too distracting."

She then moved her eyes down to Jenna's feet, pretending to check her out. The dwarf giggled and playfully punched Rhanon in the arm before saying, " _Maker's breath_ , you're absolutely relentless."

Rhanon then threw Jenna a quick wink and was about to walk away when the dwarf spoke up again, "H-Hey, Inquisitor."

Her voice shook, and Rhanon had never heard the dwarf stutter before, so whatever she was about to say had to be making her nervous. She saw Jenna fidgeting with her hands and hoped to make her feel more comfortable by asking, "Something on your mind, Jenna?"

The dwarf didn't make eye contact, and continued to fidget when she said, "Well, yeah. I guess you could say that."

Rhanon glanced to the left of them and at the stone bench that was positioned nearby. She then reached out and tapped Jenna on the shoulder before motioning for her to come and sit down. The dwarf nodded and followed Rhanon to the bench.

Once they were both sitting, Rhanon said, "All right. Let's hear it."

Jenna still wasn't making eye contact, but she still stuttered out, "W-Well, I'm a scout, so it's kinda my job to notice things. Even when I'm not working, I still notice things even if I'm not trying to. Instinct, I guess."

Rhanon's heart immediately began to race. The last time a conversation like this started, it was Cassandra noticing how exhausted she was. She really hoped Jenna wasn't about to tell her the same thing because she really didn't want to have this discussion.

To her surprise, though, the dwarf said, "So I noticed something, and let me know if I'm overstepping. Before a couple of days ago, you and the glowy elf seemed to be friends. You talked to each other all the time, and you even took him on missions with you. But lately, you haven't talked to each other at all."

Relief washed over Rhanon, and she exhaled heavily at the sensation. Jenna immediately took it the wrong way, and exclaimed, "Oh, dammit! I overstepped didn't I? Andraste's ass, I really need to learn when to shut up!"

Rhanon smiled and place a hand on Jenna's shoulder again, hoping to calm the dwarf when she said, "Relax, Jenna. You didn't overstep."

Jenna let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and said, "Oh, good. I just wasn't sure if that was a touchy subject."

Rhanon shook her head and glanced toward the tavern door, remembering that Fenris was probably still in there. "Hardly. It's nothing too big. Fenris and I just had a... disagreement."

A look flashed over the dwarf's face that Rhanon couldn't read, and she answered, "I see..."

Rhanon wasn't sure what Jenna's interest in the situation was, but it was clearly troubling her, so she hoped to encourage the Scout when she said, "Don't worry about it, Jenna. These things happen sometimes."   

The dwarf nodded and gave a small, awkward grin before saying, "Yeah, okay. Sorry for prying, Inquisitor. I'll see you later."

Rhanon nodded, and Jenna turned, heading back in the direction of the tavern. As soon as Jenna was out of sight, Rhanon was immediately curious. Why did Jenna care so much about what went on between her and Fenris? Neither of them knew her very well, so it was unlikely that she felt stuck in the middle of a fight between two friends.

Whatever the case, the dwarf's inquiry had been harmless, and Rhanon put it out of her mind as she headed out to the barn. She hadn't been to see her Dracolisk in a few days.

*****

The game of Wicked Grace had been going well for Fenris so far. He was up four sovereigns, and with every new cup of ale Varric downed, he was getting easier and easier to read, so he knew he would need to make the dwarf end the game soon to avoid taking advantage of his drunkenness.

He was about to lay down his next hand when the blonde hair of Jenna Harding caught his eye. She was approaching the table he and Varric were sitting at, and he opened his mouth to greet her when Varric suddenly said, "Hey! If it isn't Harding Jr. Come sit down! Have a drink!"

Fenris saw Jenna wince at the "Harding Jr." nickname, but her face quickly returned to its normal friendly grin before she said, "Why, Mr. Tethras? Planning on getting me drunk so you can seduce me with your chest hair?"

Varric immediately answered, "Bah! Don't need to get you drunk to do that, Sandy."

Jenna's eyebrow raised. "Sandy? I thought it was Harding Jr."

Varric turned up his mug to take another drink before replying, "Naw, Sandy is better. Goes with your hair."

She giggled. "Really? Then why not Blondie?"

At the question, Varric inhaled some of his drink and fell into a coughing fit.

Fenris knew it would be a moment before the dwarf would be able to speak again, so he told Jenna, "That name is already taken."

Jenna glanced in his direction, and as soon as their eyes met, he caught a glimpse of something on her face. It was subtle, but he could see it. She wanted to tell him something, but just like the Inquisitor had several times now, she was remaining silent and letting her eyes do the talking. Unfortunately, he was unable to tell exactly _what_ she was trying to tell him, which was odd because he had no trouble understanding the equally silent messages from the Inquisitor.

He didn't know if he should ask her about it as it was obvious that she was making an effort to keep silent, but he didn't have time to make a decision before Varric finally stopped his coughing and said, "Yeah, so, anyway, you wanna join our game? May as well start losing my coin in two directions."

Jenna looked at Varric and grinned when she said, "No, actually. A friend of mine suggested that I tell you one of my funny stories. Apparently, he thinks you're a famous writer or something."

She was speaking to Varric, but there was a certain disconnect in her voice that let Fenris know the words weren't meant _only_ for him. Was this how she was going to send the message she'd been trying to send? He didn't say anything to her, and simply looked in her direction, waiting for what she was going to say.

Varric bellowed out a laugh and said, " _Infamous_  is more like it, but go ahead. If you can make me laugh, I'll give you an autograph."

Jenna giggled again and said, "All right. Well.....Oh! Yeah! Here's a good one: When I was still training as a scout, my boss took me on an expedition to the Western Approach. She ordered me to scout out an area marked on the map, and make sure there weren't any Phoenix waiting for us along the way. It seemed easy enough, so I went ahead and looked. I scanned the sky the entire time, and I didn't see a single giant bird anywhere."

Giant bird? She'd thought the Phoenix in the Western Approach were actual birds? Fenris didn't know that much about Jenna, but he found that hard to believe.

He heard Varric start to laugh and say, " _Maker's breath_. What happened after that?"

She leaned forward into the table and said, "I went back and told my boss that the coast was clear. She ordered the team to move forward, and everything was going smoothly until one of the younger scouts started screaming and running across the sand with a Phoenix on his tail. My boss managed to take the creature down, and then she yelled at me for not paying attention. In hindsight, I don't know what was worse: her thinking I was too stupid to notice a Phoenix or admitting that I didn't actually know what a Phoenix was."

Varric had since raised his glass to Jenna and poured back another shot. When he swallowed it down, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a quill before saying, "Well, it wasn't the funniest story I've heard, but it _did_ make me laugh, so I believe I owe you an autograph. But I gotta ask. What did your boss do after that?"

Varric as busy scouring the table to find a slip of paper, so there was no way he noticed when Jenna looked away from him and directly at Fenris.

Their eyes met again, and she said, "She wasn't angry with me. I just had to apologize, and everything was fine."

The pieces fell into place, and Fenris finally understood what Jenna had been doing. He wasn't sure why she cared so much about what had happened between him and the Inquisitor, but he was grateful nonetheless.

He nodded at her, letting her know he'd gotten the message before she stood and stretched her arms behind her back. Her shoulders popped, and she held out her hand to take the autograph from Varric before saying, "Well, enjoy your game, Mr. Tethras. Just try not to wind up like Cullen."

Varric raised his glass again, "Never gonna happen, Sandy."

She threw one more quick glance at Fenris before turning to leave. Fenris kept his eyes trained on her until she disappeared beyond the Tavern door. Once she was gone, he turned his attention back to Varric. He wasn't about to leave immediately, lest he give the intoxicated dwarf the wrong idea, but with a newfound confidence, he decided he would go and see the Inquisitor once the game was over. It was time for him to clear the air.

*****

Jenna stepped out of the tavern, and was about to head up to her quarters for the night when she heard a voice echo from the shadows, "Jenna?"

Jenna turned only to see the hooded figure that could only belong to Sister Nightingale. The dwarf bowed and said, "Mistress? Did you need something?"

Leliana shook her head. "Just a question, dear. I saw what you just did. It was clever, and I don't disapprove, but why did you feel the need to interfere with the Inquisitor's personal business?"

Jenna felt the heat in her cheeks at Leliana's question. She wished she could refuse to answer, but she knew better. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't keep the truth from one of the greatest Spymasters who ever lived.

So she relented and said, "The Inquisitor smiles more when Fenris is around. And after all the good she's done, don't you think she deserves to smile?"

Leliana didn't answer immediately, so Jenna thought she was about to get scolded for crossing a line. But after a few seconds, a grin spread across Leliana's lips, and she said, "Indeed, she does. It is good that you watch out for her, Jenna. Somebody should. Maker knows she won't do it herself."

Leliana then nodded, letting Jenna know she was free to go if she wished. Jenna bowed and turned to go when Leliana said, "Keep watching out for her. I think she may need it in the days to come."

Jenna bowed again, and answered, "Of course, Mistress."

Leliana then disappeared back into the shadows, and Jenna retreated to her quarters, knowing that she'd done the right thing.

*****

  As soon as Varric finally passed out from the ale he'd been putting back, Fenris took the opportunity to slip away. He needed to go see the Inquisitor now, while he still had the confidence to do it. It had been two days since they'd spoken, and he had to let her know how much he regretted his actions. Even now, his face burned when he thought about what he'd done, how childish he had to have seemed to her.

But his guilt was doing him no good, so he headed out of the tavern, only to discover that it had started raining. He groaned and ran to the side of the keep, intent on climbing up the side of the building to the Inquisitor's quarters. The rain wasn't making the climb easy, but if he was going to speak to her, it had to be in her quarters. Despite how the tower seemed to be turning into their meeting place, there were too many people who passed by it every day, and he needed to do this somewhere no one else would hear them. When he finally reached her balcony, he began hoisting himself up, only to nearly lose his grip from shock when he was met with the end of the Inquisitor's staff aimed squarely at his face.

He saw the realization fall over her face, and she pulled the staff away before saying, "Fenris!?"

He didn't answer immediately and scrambled to climb up the rest of the way, only to be shocked when she grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside all the while saying, " _Felasil_! It's freezing out here! Get inside!"

She quickly closed the door behind him and went for a drying cloth she had hanging next to the door that led to her washroom. She tossed it to him, and he didn't try to hide the utter bewilderment on his face. It seemed the woman could not go a single day without leaving him speechless.

But he needed to get it together, so he draped the cloth over his shoulders and said, "I'm here to apologize, Inquisitor."

She had since moved to the couch and sat down. She threw her legs up onto the cushion next to her and answered, "You're damned right, you are, but why couldn't you have knocked on the door like a normal person?"

He thought better of trying to explain that he was trying to avoid the rumor mill, and went with the safer route of remaining silent. When she seemed to realize he wasn't going to answer, she motioned for him to sit down, just as she had on the day the blood mage had attacked. He hesitated for a moment but complied when it was obvious that she wasn't going to let a conversation start unless he did.

Seemingly satisfied that he was sitting, she said, "Now, you were saying?"

He hated this part, the silence right before the apology had to be made. It was far more awkward than the apology itself because there was expectation in the air. But she deserved to hear his apology. This woman had been nothing but good to him and he had repaid her for it by spitting in her face.

So he swallowed his pride and said, "My behavior was unacceptable. My accusations aside, this is the second time I've assaulted you in anger, so I understand if you no longer wish me to be here."

A heavy sigh escaped from her lips, and the look on her face shifted to the same pained expression he'd seen during their fight. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she said, "Honestly, Fenris, the bruises didn't bother me anywhere near as much as you comparing me to Danarius."

The stinging pang of the guilt shot through his chest again, and his lyrium released a faint glow. He'd seen her wince when he'd first made the ridiculous comparison, so he'd had a guess that it had bothered her, but now he knew for sure.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look in her direction, and his eyes fell to the floor when he said, "I know, and I'm sorry."

The apology felt so inadequate, so half-hearted that he finally came to the logical conclusion. He didn't deserve to be here. No amount of apologies could make up for what he'd said and done, so the only thing left to do was for her to tell him to leave. And he would, without hesitation, because he'd given her every reason to believe that he wasn't fit to be in the Inquisition.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and said, "Just say the word, and I'll go. You'll never have to see me again."

He remembered saying something similar to Hawke after the confrontation with Hadriana. He'd been so cruel to Hawke, blaming mages for everything wrong in his life and even implying that Hawke was spoilt because of the magic blood in her veins. He'd apologized to her as well and even offered to leave if she never wished to see him again.

But the Inquisitor said, "I don't want you to _leave_ , Fenris. I want you to stay and help me kick Corypheus back into whatever hole he crawled out of."

His lips curled into a half-smile. Of course. Of course, she was going to give him another chance. She was just so inexorably _good_. Anyone else would have immediately ordered him to go and never return, but the woman was gifted with unrelenting understanding and empathy.

He finally gained the courage to look at her and saw the seriousness behind her eyes when she said, "But if you're going to _do_  that, there has to at least be mutual trust and respect here. I don't expect you to agree with all of my decisions, but at least respect them and trust me enough to know that I don't make them lightly."

She sighed again and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. "And yeah, if you can't do that, then you need to go because when we're facing a war like this one, there's no room for a grey area. You're either with me, or you're not."

She paused and finally looked back at him when she said, "So, which is it?"

It was a simple enough question, and one he already had an answer for. Leaders like her were hard to find, and after her willingness to give him another chance, he wouldn't hesitate to follow her through the void if she asked him to.

So he did the only thing he could think to do, he held his hand out to her and said, "I'm with you, Inquisitor."

She smiled then and reached her hand out to take his. She shook it once and then pulled away before returning to her normal, sarcastic tone and saying, "Well good, then. Now, if you don't mind, I was about to take a nap before you decided to climb my balcony."

He chuckled lightly as he stood and headed toward the door. He saw her stretch her legs across the couch and lie down before he turned away. He was almost to the stairs when she suddenly said, "Oh, and one more thing."

He stopped and peeked over his shoulder. She was poking her head up from the front of the couch and said, "You have to promise that you won't get angry and hurt my people anymore, not even yourself. All right?"

It was an easy request to honor. He had no intention of raising a hand to any of his new companions again, and he'd never been one to harm himself.

So he nodded and said, "Of course."

She grumbled and immediately said, "No, I need to hear it. Just say you promise."

He grinned again. The woman truly was an enigma. He turned his head away and said, "I promise."

With that, she didn't say anything more, and he took it as a sign he was finally allowed to leave. He'd gone into the room with an incredible weight pressing down on him, but now, he felt lighter than he had for weeks. It was a good feeling, knowing with absolute certainty that he was where he needed to be with a leader he could trust.

The light feeling was quickly dampened, however, when he remembered he still had one more grueling task ahead of him: apologizing to Cassandra.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pala adahl’en: "Go fuck a forest."

The next two weeks dragged for Rhanon. Apart from the occasional fade rift and Venatori attack, she didn't have much to do outside of Skyhold. So when Leliana came to her with the news that they'd finally managed to scout out Empris Du Lion, Rhanon jumped at the opportunity to treck out there and punch a bigger hole in Corypheus' red lyrium supply. So she gathered Fenris, Cole, and Cassandra together and headed out, enthusiastic that she was finally getting to do something other than damage control.

When she arrived in the town of Sahrnia, however, all of her enthusiasm was crushed when she saw the state of it. The buildings were in shambles, the river was frozen over, and the people were little more than withered husks. How long had it been since these people had eaten a decent meal? Her scouts had placed a camp nearby, and she went to them, intending to order one of them to send out a message and have food sent to Sahrnia.

However, before she was able to speak to anyone herself, a familiar blonde dwarf sprinted up to her, panting heavily. Once Jenna finished gasping, she raised her head and said, "Inquisitor! I'm so glad I caught you before you headed out! I have a report that you need to hear!"

Rhanon grinned at how Jenna almost always seemed to be dashing about, taking care of one duty or another. She made a mental note to recommend the scout for a promotion the next time Leliana asked, and answered, "Go ahead."

The dwarf took one or two more heavy breaths before saying, "No doubt Sister Nightingale told you about the Red Templar invasion of this place, but there's something she didn't know. There _are_  Templars all over the mine, forcing the people here to work for them, but those Templars are coming from Suledin Keep. So if you want to save the people at the mines, you'd do better to go to Suledin Keep first and take out their base, otherwise, the Templars you kill will just be replaced."

Well, it was certainly a good thing she'd decided to come to the camp. Her original plan had been to go straight to the mines and free the workers.

She gave Jenna an approving nod and said, "Good work, Jenna. We'll head out to Suledin Keep. But before you go off to do whatever it is you do, I need you to make sure someone gets a message to Skyhold. I want food brought to Sahrnia to hold these people off until I can get this mess cleaned up."

Jenna bowed slightly. "Of course. And, Inquisitor...."

Rhanon raised her eyebrows, indicating she was still listening.

Jenna took a step closer and said, "I kept hearing the Red Templars mentioning someone named Imshael, and the way they talked about him... Just be careful. Whoever he is, he's dangerous."

The serious tone in Jenna's voice told Rhanon that the dwarf was truly concerned about whoever this "Imshael" was, so she wasn't about to downplay the situation, and simply said, "All right, Jenna. We'll be on our guard."

The dwarf seemed to be satisfied, as she turned to head toward the raven cage. With Jenna's warning in mind, Rhanon led her people out of Sahrnia and toward Suledin Keep. On the way, they faced only ordinary Red Templars at first, but when they'd almost reached the keep, all four of them were shocked to silence when they came across a monstrosity, unlike anything they'd ever seen.

It appeared to be more lyrium than human, with great lyrium spikes that made up its body and stretched at least ten feet into the air. A cluster of lyrium with a greater circumference than Cassandra's shield had sprouted from the creature's arm and drug behind it when it moved. When it noticed them, that heavy arm proved to be one of its deadliest weapons as it was content to use it as a blunt weapon.

It took some effort to bring the beast down, especially when it started sprouting red lyrium from the ground around them, forming walls and preventing Rhanon from getting a clear shot several times. When the monster finally fell, however, Rhanon approached it and peered down at it. Had it not had a pair of human legs, she wouldn't have been able to tell the creature had ever been human.

From beside her, Fenris was also looking upon the fallen foe, and said, "Surely this is a fate worse than death."

She sighed. "Yeah. No kidding."

She tore her eyes away from the behemoth and motioned toward Suledin Keep, which was now but a few yards away, "Let's get into that keep."

Whatever was happening in Suledin Keep, she wanted it stopped. She'd seen horrors from this war, but seeing a Templar so heavily corrupted by red lyrium that he no longer looked human....that's not something you can ever unsee. And if this Imshael was responsible for the creation of these Red Templars, she would pay him back in kind.

*****

As Fenris followed the Inquisitor through Suledin Keep, he could tell that seeing the behemoth-like Red Templar had left her at least partially shaken. When they came upon more enemies, she was less conservative with her magic than normal and launched out several icicles to pierce through the corrupted Templars. Whether she was doing it to end their suffering quicker or because she was angry, he didn't know, but it certainly made their trip through the keep much quicker than it otherwise would have been.

Half-way through, however, they came across a sight that far outweighed the one they'd seen outside. Behind reinforced metal bars was a dead giant. Sprouting out of the giant's head was the same red spikes they'd seen on the head of the behemoth.

As he stared into the cage, Cassandra piped up, "Attempting to corrupt Giants? This Imshael is truly mad."

Fenris glanced at the Inquisitor and saw the red spreading across her cheeks. Once again, it was obvious that seeing the red lyrium corruption was disturbing her, and he couldn't help but wonder why. 

He didn't have time to ask, however, as she turned away from the giant and said, "Come on. Let's finish this."

No one argued, and they moved through the rest of the keep without much further trouble until they came across what appeared to be a courtyard. In the middle was a frozen-over fountain, and in front of the fountain stood what appeared to be a normal man. He had brown hair and piercing, aquamarine eyes.

The Inquisitor was the first to approach him and said, "Imshael?"

The man smirked and gave a heavily exaggerated bow before replying, "The one and only. And you. You're the Inquisitor."

From behind him, Fenris heard Cole's voice shake as he said, " _Temptation, irresistible offers, fair trades, and bargains. I can give them what they want. They have a choice._ "

The young man paused before concluding, "He's a demon of desire. Don't listen to him."

Fenris reached for his sword and kept his eyes trained on Imshael. "Say the word, Inquisitor."

Imshael held up his hands and said, "Wait, wait! There's no need for violence here. I can offer you a choice. Let me go, and I'll give you both something you want."

Fenris could tell immediately that the demon was speaking to him and the Inquisitor, which would have been funny if it wasn't so infuriating. He would not be swayed by the demon's offer, and he knew for certain that the Inquisitor wouldn't either, so he waited, ready for her to give the order.

The Inquisitor scoffed at the demon and answered, "Really? You corrupt dozens upon dozens of Templars and even a giant with Red Lyrium, and you honestly think I'm going to deal with you? _Pala adahl’en_ , demon."

Imshael looked almost offended by her accusation, and said, "Now, now, there's no need for such foul language, Inquisitor. I believe you'll find my offer to be most gracious."

The aquamarine in the demon's eyes came alight, and Fenris felt all the air leave his lungs when a figure appeared in front of Imshael. Black hair, blue eyes, a staff attached to her back, and the same adorably infuriating grin he'd seen for nearly a decade.

The Inquisitor audibly gasped at the appearance of Hawke, and she shouted, "You bastard!"

This had happened to Fenris before. He remembered it as clearly as the day it happened the first time. He followed Hawke into the Fade to save the half-elf boy Feynriel from the demons who had infested his dreams. A demon of Pride had tempted him with the power to bring retribution to all of the people in his life who had harmed him. He'd fallen for it then. It had been so easy. The demon's words had flowed so smoothly and spoken to the deepest parts of his soul.

It would be even easier this time. He wanted nothing in the world more than to have Hawke back, to hold her in his arms again and listen to her insufferable jokes. But this time, _this_  time he was not going to let himself fall prey. As much as Hawke's death had destroyed him, and as much as he longed for her, he knew she wouldn't want this, for him to give in to a demon in order to see her again. 

So he finally drew his sword and snapped, "You will not tempt me, demon. Even if you did deliver, she would never forgive me."

Imshael smirked. "Oh? Are you certain about that? Well, no matter. Perhaps your Inquisitor will be more open to the idea."

Fenris huffed. "Not likely."

The Inquisitor wasted no time in affirming, "Don't even bother! We're done talking!"

The Inquisitor reached for her staff right before Imshael said, "Are you sure, my dear? The wolves were ravenous, but a torn throat is an easy fix for someone like me."

Wolves? Torn throat? What was he talking about? The Inquisitor had never mentioned anything like that. Whatever it was, however, shook her up immensely because he saw her staff lower and her eyes widen as another figure began to appear in front of Imshael. It was but an outline, at first, and just when it began to clear, Fenris saw an arrow tear through the air and lodge itself deep into Imshael's shoulder.

The figure vanished, and Fenris turned to see Scout Jenna standing at the top of the stairs behind them, lowering her bow and smirking.

Imshael started screaming wildly before saying, "Damn you all! I try to offer you something wonderful and you spit in my face! Fine! We'll do this _your_  way!"

Within seconds, Imshael's form melted away, replaced with the bright orange, flaming body of a rage demon. All around them, Red Templars came pouring out from behind walls and around corners, two behemoths among them. Fenris was only _just_ able to see the Inquisitor launch her first attack before he was drawn immediately into a fight with a group of four Templars _._

Cole vanished into a cloud of smoke while Cassandra turned her attention to Imshael and the two behemoths. However, she was unable to catch two of the foot soldiers, who sprinted up the stairs behind them and right toward Jenna. The scout's eyes widened, and she turned to run when two more foot soldiers appeared behind her.

 _Fasta vas _!__  He couldn't let that dwarf die, not after she risked her life to interrupt Imshael's spell. He pushed against the Templars holding him back, but he couldn't break their ranks. He called out the dwarf's name, and he could see the swords about to come down when a blur of blue appeared in front of her. A powerful wave of magic erupted from the middle of the Templars, the same wave that had thrown him across the room during his confrontation with the Inquisitor.

The Templars flew back several feet, and the Inquisitor, staff raised out in front of her, kept her eyes trained on the four men as she shouted, "Get out of here, Jenna! Now!"

The dwarf was gone within seconds, and Fenris was finally able to focus on the Templars in front of him. He drove his sword through one, and reached into the chest of the other, hearing him gurgle before his corrupted heart was crushed. Cole emerged from his stealth nearby and ran his daggers through the remaining two footmen. Fenris turned, ready to rush up the stairs to assist the Inquisitor when he saw that all four of the footmen were already dead at her feet. Her hands were glowing blue, and he saw that she was using a considerable amount of power attempting to hold Imshael inside of a very familiar crushing prison while Cassandra held back the behemoths.

Fenris motioned for Cole to follow him, and the two of them set in on the behemoth closest to Cassandra. One of the beasts had been difficult enough to take down, and that had been _with_  the Inquisitor's magic. But now there were two, and they were running on a time limit. The Inquisitor would not be able to hold Imshael inside of that prison indefinitely. He set his lyrium aflame and threw everything he had into tearing through the beasts in front of him while Cole's daggers blurred with every strike and Cassandra's shield took the brunt of the damage.

When the first beast finally fell, Fenris was optimistic that things were going well, but, from his prison, Imshael's now low-pitched voice echoed, "That is enough, Inquisitor!"

Just as it had before, the figure appeared in front of the Inquisitor, only this time, it was clear. Brown hair, a leather shirt, and brown trousers, as well as a staff attached to his back. A greater expression of pain than Fenris had ever seen fell over the Inquisitor's face, and the blue light in her hands sparked before it went out. The prison fell away from Imshael, and he launched himself toward the Inquisitor, leaving a trail of fire behind him.

Fenris attempted to push past the behemoth, but was rebuffed, so he shouted as loud as he could, "Inquisitor!"

He saw the snap of the realization on her face before she raised her staff and threw up a wall of ice, stopping Imshael in his tracks. The figure vanished, and with her other hand, she launched another spell, sending thick, sharp icicles up from the ground beneath Imshael to impale him. The demon cried out in pain, but Fenris could tell he was far from defeated as his form shifted into a floating, sobbing demon with black robes. 

At last, the other behemoth fell, and the three of them turned on Imshael. The wall of ice began to melt, and Fenris' heart raced just a little harder when the Inquisitor emerged from behind it with fire enveloping both of her arms. Fire. It was the element he saw her use the least. He didn't know for sure, but he'd always assumed it was because she didn't like to make anyone suffer unnecessarily. So if she was using fire, it had to be because Imshael repulsed her so much that she didn't care if he suffered.

She threw out her first flame and engulfed the despair demon in a wall of fire. Just as he had when he battled with Hawke, Fenris felt no heat coming off of the flames. The fire would harm no one but Imshael. So he rushed in, along with Cassandra and Cole, and with the four of them attacking together, it didn't take long for the demon to breathe his last.

His body turned to a pile of ash, and the Inquisitor banished the fire from her arms. There were a few short seconds of silence before all four of them released a collective sigh of relief. Of all the battles he'd fought with the Inquisitor, this one had been among the most arduous, made even more obvious by the fact that the Inquisitor had to bend over and place her palms on her knees to steady herself.

That was when Fenris saw it: a foot soldier that had somehow survived the assault. He was only a foot away from the Inquisitor with his sword raised. Within the span of a second, Fenris came to a decision and set his lyrium alight one more time. He shot toward the Inquisitor and shoved her out of the way. However, in his haste to move her, he hadn't thought to ready his own sword, and he felt the slicing pain of the foot soldier's blade coming down across his chest.

The heat of his blood poured down his abdomen and thighs, and he heard the Inquisitor call his name before she launched another fire spell toward the foot soldier, sending him fleeing right into Cole's daggers. Fenris felt the light-headedness that always came with blood loss, and flopped backward into the snow.

*****

As soon as Fenris hit the snow, Rhanon rushed to his side and poured all of her remaining mana into channeling a healing spell. She let out a frantic growl when she realized how much of her power had been drained by the battle. The most she was able to do was stem the bleeding. She couldn't even _begin_  to actually seal the gash that ran from his right shoulder all the way down to his left hip.

She could feel the heat in her cheeks when she turned to Cassandra and said, "We have to get him out of here! I don't have the strength left to heal him."

Cassandra nodded and immediately took him by the arm and hoisted him up onto her shoulders. Thankful for Cassandra's monstrous strength, Rhanon led them out of Suledin Keep and to the nearest camp. The Inquisition nurse met them outside one of the tents, and Cassandra carried Fenris inside. Once he was safely inside, Rhanon was able to release the breath she'd been holding in, only for the stress of worrying about him to be replaced with a piercing guilt that made her double over and fall onto her butt.

First, she drags the love of his life into the Fade and gets __her__  killed, and now she takes him along on a dangerous mission and nearly gets him killed too. And after Imshael dragged up remnants of her past that she didn't want to think about, this was too damned much. Why was it always her people who got hurt? Why was _she_  never the one to take the brunt of the punishment? She was the leader, she was supposed to be the one to shoulder the burdens, not her people. So why?

She only barely noticed Cassandra and Cole emerge from the tent. She expected Cassandra to ask if she was all right, but she heard nothing from her, and instead noticed Cole sitting down beside her.

He kept his head ducked down like normal and said, "It wasn't your fault."

She wanted to believe that. What she wouldn't give to be as light-hearted as the uncaring politicians she had to deal with all the time. No matter what happened, they never felt anything, no weight pushing them down, and no guilt for their actions (or inaction.) If she was able to turn off her ability to feel guilt, it would certainly make her life easier.

Of course, being who he was, Cole was able to feel that doubt as if it were his own, and he said, "No. It's good that you care. If you didn't care, you wouldn't help people. You just care so much that it hurts you when someone else is hurt. That's okay. Just don't let the hurt take roots and grow inside of you. You're too good. I don't want you to break."

Cole always had been the sweetest of her companions, and she wanted to feel better if only to make _him_ feel better. But she knew it wasn't going to happen until Fenris was back at Skyhold, safe and recovering. Cole didn't say anything after that and simply sat with her until the red-haired nurse finally emerged from the tent, her hands bloody.

Rhanon got immediately to her feet and said, "How is he?"

The nurse took a white cloth from the pocket of her apron and began wiping the still-wet blood from her hands. "He's stable, and I've managed to seal the wound. As long as it stays covered, and as long as you don't move him around too much, you should be able to take him back to Skyhold so he can recover in safety."

That was all Rhanon needed to hear. She reached into her pocket and drew out five sovereigns before handing them to the nurse and calling for Cassandra. The nurse tried to return the money, but Rhanon insisted she keep it and rushed off to Sahrnia to find a cart. It would be a long journey back with an injured man in tow, but if he was to have any chance of making a full recovery, he had to be out of the elements. So Cassandra loaded Fenris into the wooden cart, and the three of them took off for Skyhold.


	11. Chapter 11

Fenris remembered waking up one or two times on the long trek back to Skyhold, but he stayed awake for only a few fleeting moments. The third time he opened his eyes, he was lying in his own bed inside his quarters, completely alone. He attempted to sit up like he normally would, only for a sharp pain in his chest and abdomen to force him to move slower. The blanket fell from his chest, and he saw the layers of bandages wrapped around him. At least he knew the full extent of the wound now. He hadn't had time to look at it before he passed out.

A knock on his door grabbed his attention, and he called out, "Yes?"

The door opened quickly, and an elf who couldn't have been any older than sixteen, gaped at him with wide, pine-green eyes as she struggled to hold on to the tray of food in her hands. Her hands trembled as she carried the tray closer to the bed and held it out to him and said, "I-I'm sorry if I woke you, ser. This is the f-first time I've knocked and you've actually answered."

He had no idea why the girl was so nervous, but he quickly took the tray from her to prevent the possibility of her dropping it. He placed it on his lap and said, "Thank you."

The girl bowed clumsily, and turned to leave when Fenris asked, "How long have I been asleep?"

The girl almost stumbled when she turned back around. He hoped to make her feel more comfortable when he said, "There's no reason to be afraid. I won't harm you."

Her face flushed red, her hands flew up to cover it, and she immediately stuttered out, "O-Oh, dear. I've given the w-wrong idea. I know you won't hurt me. I just.....I'm not sure if you're aware, but you're....quite handsome."

He had to use every ounce of his willpower to hold back from laughing. He didn't want her to think he was laughing at __her__. She was already nervous enough without him adding to it. So he simply grinned and answered, "So I've been told."

The blush receded from her face only slightly, but he saw the flash of realization come over her eyes when she said, "Y-You asked me a question! The Inquisitor brought you back t-to Skyhold three days ago, ser, and you were s-sleeping then, so I'm not sure e-exactly how long."

The Inquisitor. Before he'd passed out, he remembered pushing her out of the path of a blade. The fact that she'd brought him back here let him know that she was okay. He was about to ask the girl where the Inquisitor was when her hands suddenly flew to her mouth and she exclaimed, "The Inquisitor! She told me to let her know as soon as you woke up! I-I'm sorry, ser! I have to go!"

Without another word, the girl sprinted from the room, pulling the door closed behind her. She'd answered the question he was going to ask, anyway, so he decided he'd go ahead and eat the food she'd brought him, which he could now see was some sort of meat pie along with fresh greens, boiled potatoes and a cup of water. His brain didn't register how hungry he was until he took the first bite of the potatoes. He'd definitely been asleep for a while because his stomach hadn't felt this empty in quite some time.

He was half-way through the meal when the door to his quarters flung open, and the Inquisitor stood in the doorway, staring on at him. The bun on the back of her head was hanging slightly looser than normal, and a brown satchel hung from her shoulder. She was also missing her battlemage coat, leaving her in a sleeveless leather shirt and brown trousers.

He swallowed the food in his mouth and said, "Inquisitor."

Her eyebrows ran tightly together and he heard an annoyed growl rumble in her throat before she said, "Don't "Inquisitor" me. You're lucky you're still injured or I'd slap you in your pretty face."

Well, now he was confused. As far as he remembered, he'd saved her life, so he was having a hard time understanding where exactly he went wrong. He washed down his food with some water and said, "Not the reaction I was expecting."

She stomped up to the bed and placed her hands firmly on her hips, "Shut up! This isn't a joke, Fenris!"

He clearly wasn't going to be finishing his food any time soon, so he slid the tray onto the bed-side table and asked, "What is this about, Inquisitor?"

Her fists clenched and he saw the fire behind her eyes when she answered, "You almost got yourself killed trying to protect me! You can't _do_ that!"

He was caught off guard by the statement and found words stuck in his throat. So he just stared back at her, a flabbergasted look on his face.

Her voice cracked when she leaned her hands on the bed next to him and said, "Do you _really_  think I want _more_ people dying for me!? That happens _more_ than enough without you helping it along!"

His heart sped up for a few seconds when the wheels in his head finally started turning. Hawke had sacrificed her own life to give the Inquisitor time to escape the Fade. And the Inquisitor had shown many times how much Hawke's death haunted her. Of course, she would react with anger to the thought of _him_ also dying while protecting her. In her mind, every person who dies around her is just one more person she failed to save, and his own death would have been no different.

However, despite understanding her position, he still said, "I'm not going to apologize for saving your life, Inquisitor. So if that's what you came here for-"

"Shut up!" she repeated, "I came here to check on you. Yelling at you was just a bonus."

She pulled her arms away from the bed and flopped into the chair that was sitting next to the bed. She sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her neck before leaning her elbows onto her knees and saying, "Seriously, though. Next time, just tackle me out of the way or something so neither one of us gets hit. I...."

The despair was evident in her voice when she said, "I don't want to add you to the list, Fenris."

It was obvious that she wasn't going to let this subject drop unless he at least agreed to be more careful, so he said, "All right, Inquisitor. Next time I'll tackle you."

The sadness fell from her face, and her normal, sarcastic grin returned as she said, "You're _so_ sweet."

It was only in this moment that he remembered that they had been right in the middle of a mission when he'd received the wound on his chest, and they hadn't been able to finish it.

So he asked her, "What came of the mission? Did you finish it without me?"

Red patches flared on her cheeks, and she shook her head, "Not exactly. I told Cassandra I wasn't going anywhere until I was sure you were going to be all right. So she took Dorian, Solas, and Varric to free the townspeople from the mine. We took care of the desire demon, so I figure they can handle a few red templars without me."

He couldn't help the warm feeling that moved through his chest at the thought of her worrying over him. The only other person in his life to worry over him like that had been Hawke, and he hadn't thought anyone ever would again. He knew he didn't make it easy for people to care about him, so it was surprising that she did. Still, he wanted to keep the conversation from becoming awkward, so he decided to ask her about something that had been on his mind during the mission.

He reached for his cup of water and said, "Speaking of red templars, I noticed that you seemed particularly disturbed by them."

Her face wilted again, and that almost made him want to take the statement back. But she threw on a cheerful facade and said, "Is there a question in there?"

He took a drink and placed the cup back down. "You see disturbing things on a daily basis, but none of them visibly affect you. So why do the red templars?"

She was squirming slightly in the chair, so it was obvious that the question was making her uncomfortable. That was the last thing he wanted, so he said, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Inquisitor."

She immediately shook her head, "No, I will. It's just.....strange to talk about. No one else asks me questions like this. At least, not as often as you do."

No one else? Was she seriously saying that _no one_ else in her Inner Circle consistently asks her questions about herself? Then how did they get to know her? _Did_ any of them know her? Or did he know more about her than any of them? It was entirely possible if none of them made these kinds of inquiries. He'd wondered many times over the past several weeks why she warmed up to him so quickly, especially after the tantrum he threw after Servis' judgment. But if he truly was the only one going out of his way to get to know her, it made sense.

She wound her fingers together and said, "I'm a mage, so I grew up being warned about becoming an abomination. "Don't let your emotions get the better of you, Rhanon. That will make it easier for a demon to possess you and make you an abomination." "Don't practice blood magic, Rhanon. Mages who practice blood magic are far more likely to become abominations." "If you become an abomination, Rhanon, you'll lose control of your body and mind. You won't be you anymore.""

She exhaled heavily, and her voice shook when she went on, "I heard it over and over until, for a long time, it was all I thought about. I wouldn't use too much magic because I was too afraid that I might attract the attention of a demon and get turned into an abomination. When I'd cut my hand with a knife, I'd get so scared that I'd accidentally use blood magic that I'd immediately heal the wound. It took a lot of years for me to feel comfortable enough with my magic to not be afraid anymore."

Fear-mongering? She spent her entire life being frightened into caution? So there _was_  a reason for her restraint on the battlefield. She just didn't know it. In her mind, she  wasn't doing anything special, but she was actually obeying the voice of the younger version of herself: "Don't use too much magic or you might become an abomination."

It was disturbing to him that a woman as intelligent as she was taught to be so afraid of her own power. He'd always held with the belief that mages should not be coddled when it came to explaining the dangers of magic and demons. But to fear-monger her so strongly that she spends years afraid of herself? No child should go through that.

"So," she finally carried on, "When I see the Red Templars, that's what I think of. They don't have any control over their minds and bodies. They __are__  abominations. Except it's not demons controlling them, it's lyrium."

He'd truly never thought of it in that way, but the woman in front of him had nothing to fear, and she needed to know it.

So he half-smiled when he said, "You have no reason to be afraid, Inquisitor. You would never fall prey to a demon."

She looked back at him, and he saw a genuine, sarcastic smirk grow on her lips when she said, "I suppose you would know."

She then reached into the satchel at her hip and pulled out a very familiar, very infuriating book. She flipped open to a random page and said, "If Varric is to be believed, you were " _horribly embarrassed about your blunder in the Fade_."" So embarrassed, in fact, that you " _threw back seven cups of ale before you were drunk enough to forget it_.""

Fenris' hand raised to his face in order to cover the heat in his cheeks. "I seem to recall that I had plans to kill that dwarf."

She was laughing at this point, and she turned the page before reading off another passage, "And, according to Varric, your " _brooding was so impressive that Tevinter decided to name brooding a national sport in your honor_.""

He'd repeated the phrase so many times that it was almost annoying, but still, he said, "I don't brood."

She giggled and turned the page. "Oh, you definitely brood, but it's nowhere near as bad as Varric makes it out to be. I've definitely seen worse."

He rolled his eyes and waited for her to read the next section. She laughed again before she went on, "" _Despite his spiky exterior, Fenris was all right once I got to know him. He eventually surpassed me at Wicked Grace, but I don't think he ever learned any new facial expressions_.""

He was actually surprised that the dwarf complimented him, but he couldn't manage to go two sentences without somehow bringing up the "brooding" thing. Honestly, it was as if the dwarf was addicted to his own exaggerations. She turned the page again, and he prepared himself for the next ridiculous passage. But it never came, and he glanced at her face only to see that the light had drained from her eyes, and she was simply staring on at the page, completely entranced.

He couldn't imagine what she was looking at that would kill her spirits so quickly so he asked, "Inquisitor? What's wrong?"

She shook her head and closed the book. She then hugged it to her chest and said, "I was just thinking about the first time I read this book. It's horrible to think about now, but I thought you were an awful person. I got so angry when I read the sections that talked about how much you hated mages, and I couldn't believe that Hawke-"

She stopped immediately, and her hand flew to her mouth. He didn't know, of course, but he guessed that she was going to say "I couldn't believe that Hawke fell in love with you." Even now, he was equally as surprised by it. She clearly saw something in him that he didn't see.

Once the red disappeared from her face, the Inquisitor went on, "Anyway, I thought awful things about you. But then, when I finished the book, I finally understood. You saw nothing but the worst of us for most of your life. Of course, you hated us."

She opened the satchel and slid the book back in. "To be honest, I fully expected you to reject me from day one. And I certainly never expected you to trust me. After everything mages put you through..... I don't know. I guess I was afraid you'd see that in me since I was a complete unknown."

With every passing moment, Fenris became more and more surprised by the Inquisitor's words. He scarcely realized she had such insecurities due to her confident way of carrying herself. However, what surprised him more than the fact that she had these insecurities was that she was _telling_  him about them.

If she was to be believed, no one else in her Inner Circle asked her many questions about herself. And if that were the case was she choosing him as a person she could confide in? He'd always assumed that role belonged to the flashy Tevinter mage, but she'd also mentioned that her opinions didn't exactly line up with Dorian's. Perhaps it was easier for her to speak honestly with a person who shared her opinion to avoid walking on eggshells.

This was all speculation, of course, and he wasn't about to ask her if he was right, but since she'd elected to tell him about these particular insecurities, he would at least attempt to alleviate them.

So he told her, "I knew from the moment I met you that you weren't like the mages I knew in Tevinter. If you had been, you wouldn't have hesitated to kill me for assaulting you. Instead, you forgave me, _twice_. The magisters don't know the meaning of the word forgiveness, or mercy."

He expected her to grin, laugh, and come up with a sarcastic quip in response, just like she always did. But instead, she raised her eyes to meet his, and just looked at him. They'd been here before, many times. They'd reach a point in their conversation where neither of them had anything else to say, and the only thing left to do was either say farewell or simply sit in silence. Both conclusions had happened in the past.

What had never happened was what was happening now. Their eyes were locked, and if this were happening with anyone else, it would have been awkward. But it wasn't awkward. In fact, it was the opposite. It felt.....natural, like the other times they'd spoken to each other with only their eyes. Only this time, neither of them seemed to know what they wanted to say, only that they _wanted_  to speak. The seconds ticked by slowly, and in those seconds, he became aware of something lingering in the air between them. He didn't know what it was, but from the look in her eyes, he could tell she was aware of it too.

Still, neither of them spoke a word, and they might have stayed in that position for a good long while if they hadn't heard the voice of their favorite dwarf as she burst into the room. Jenna's interruption pried their eyes away from each other, and they both turned to her.

The dwarf moved to the Inquisitor's side and said, "Inquisitor! Sister Nightingale sent me to tell you! She found the Temple of Dumat! She's sending a group of scouts to check it out right now, and once they send her a report, we can go whenever we want."

The Inquisitor smiled back at Jenna and answered, "You _do_  know it's probably going to be at least two weeks before we can actually _go _,__  right?"

The dwarf held her hand up in a "hush up" fashion, and said, "I'm not gonna let you ruin my excitement with your trifles. This will be my first mission where I won't have to be supervised by one of Sister Nightingale's top Scouts."

Fenris raised an eyebrow and asked, "When exactly have you ever been "supervised?" We've never seen anyone else with you."

Jenna giggled. "Yeah, that's kinda the point. Sister Nightingale is the Spymaster. Her people are trained to be silent and stay out of sight."

Fenris glanced over at the Inquisitor in time for her to also glance at him. They were both, evidently, thinking the same thing as the Inquisitor said, "That's....really creepy."

Jenna shrugged. "That's the price you pay for becoming one of Sister Nightingale's scouts. Anyway, I just came by to let you know. I'll see you two later."

They both nodded, and Jenna took off back out of the door. The Inquisitor seemed to take that as her cue to leave, too and stood from the chair. She stretched her arms over her head and said, "Well, I guess I'd better get back to work. Not all of us can afford to sit in bed all day."

It seemed things were back to normal again, and he shot back, "I would be more than happy to give _you_  the gaping chest wound if you'd prefer."

She turned and said, "Psh. You wouldn't last a day as Inquisitor. You'd murder the first politician who pissed you off."

He couldn't argue with that and was about to say farewell when he noticed the claw-like scar on her left shoulder. He'd seen it before, on the day they had sparred with each other, but only now did it interest him because he remembered Imshael's words.

_The wolves were ravenous _._ _

That had meant nothing to him when Imshael had said it, but now it made him curious. So he called after her, "How did you get that scar on your shoulder, Inquisitor?"

She stopped in her tracks, and he saw her head dip down as she stared at the floor. Her right hand reached up and her fingers ran over the scar before she peeked over her shoulder.

She hesitated for a few more seconds before finally saying, "I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you how I got this scar when you start calling me by my name."

She'll tell him about it when he starts calling her by her name? What did calling her by her name have to do with anything?

He was about to ask her when she said, "I'll see you later, Fenris."

He nodded and said, "Inquisitor."

 


	12. Chapter 12

When Rhanon, at last, left for the Temple of Dumat with Fenris, Cassandra, and Dorian, she figured out immediately why it had taken Leliana so long to find it. For miles and miles around the place, there was nothing but forest and mountain. When it took nearly two weeks for Leliana's scouts to even send word that they'd finished checking the place out, Rhanon knew it was going to be in the middle of nowhere. This temple, though, it was so cleverly hidden by the mountains and the trees that she wondered if anyone else besides the Inquisition had ever found it.

After trekking through the seemingly never-ending supply of trees for nearly a week, Rhanon and the rest of the group breathed a sigh of relief when the roof of the Temple came into sight. They were still a good distance away, and they were all exhausted from the trip, so Rhanon insisted that they make camp and rest before actually attempting to investigate the place.

While Dorian set up wards, Fenris went off to catch one of the many wild rams they'd passed on the way there, and Cassandra went to gather firewood. Left with nothing to do, Rhanon stood by, scanning the area around them and making damn sure there were no Venatori waiting nearby. They were very close to a place Corypheus deemed sacred, so she knew it was unlikely that he'd left the place unguarded. The only question was _what_ was doing the guarding.

To her surprise, they faced no trouble, and when Fenris returned with their dinner, Rhanon became increasingly aware of a deep feeling of disquiet. Her three companions hardly seemed worried as Cassandra helped Fenris skin the ram and Dorian started a fire, but Rhanon could not shake the feeling. So while her friends continued with what they were doing, she raised her hand to grasp her staff before stepping out into the forest. She tuned out Dorian and Cassandra's banter and listened solely to the forest around her.

The more steps she took away from the camp, the more the feeling grew, and when the rustling of leaves to her left snagged her attention, and she turned. Within the course of a few seconds, her staff was raised, and an ice spell was glowing in her hand. The spell illuminated the dark, and she flinched when the wild, frantic eyes of Jenna Harding looked back at her.

She released the breath she'd been holding and rolled her eyes as she put away her staff, "Jenna?"

The dwarf breathed her own sigh of relief before saying, "Geeze, Inquisitor. Take it easy with the ice."

Rhanon crossed her arms in annoyance. "Well, maybe try letting us know it's you next time so I don't assume you're a Venatori."

"Yeah, yeah," Jenna said. "Can you scold me closer to the fire? It's cold on this mountain."

 _By the Creators_ , it was impossible to stay mad at the dwarf. Rhanon just wished more of her people would talk to her like Jenna, without any ridiculous reverence for her position. She'd never enjoyed the pedestal everyone started putting her on as soon as she was named "Herald of Andraste," and that pedestal only got taller after she became the Inquisitor. It was nice to see that at least _some_  of her people remembered she was a person.

She motioned for Jenna to follow her and they both joined the rest of the group. Dorian already had a large chunk of meat on a spit-roast, and the other two were sitting nearby, running whetstones over their swords.

Rhanon approached first and said, "I brought a friend over for dinner."

Dorian smirked and responded, "We were wondering where you wandered off to, Rhanon. I was about to send a search party."

Rhanon smirked right back and said, "Yes, I can see you were getting right on that. What if I'd _actually_  been in trouble?"

Dorian turned the meat over to cook the other side, "Then Fenris would have come to your rescue, of course. He was the one who assured us you were fine, after all."

Rhanon glanced at Fenris, who was still sharpening his sword. She gave him a quizzical look and asked, "And _how_  did you know I was okay?"

Fenris raised his head and half smiled when he said, "You don't stay on the run from hunters for three years without being able to sense an ambush, Inquisitor."

Her chest ached at that statement. She'd never really questioned Fenris about his past, nor was she going to. After Varric's book, she was sure Fenris had enough people questioning him about it. But she couldn't stop herself from wondering how many of his skills were things he learned because he _wanted_  to and how many were things he _had_ to learn to stay alive. Considering how long he was a slave and how long he was on the run afterward, she guessed that the latter was probably more prominent.

Jenna, who had taken a seat between Fenris and Rhanon, said, "Anyway, can I get to my report?"

Rhanon turned her attention to Jenna and said, "Yes. Go on."

The dwarf absentmindedly started picking up twigs from the ground and throwing them into the fire when she said, "I didn't actually go inside the Temple because there were at least four streams of that glowy stuff that comes out of the Fade Rifts right next to the front door. Other than that, the entire courtyard outside the place seems to be unguarded. But if the front door is any indication, you're probably gonna find a lot of demons inside."

She picked up a nearby stick off the ground and started poking at the burning wood before saying, "The only other thing I can tell you is that _someone_  is in there. I circled the building to see if there were any other entrances, and I heard what sounded like an old man groaning."

Rhanon didn't bother asking if Jenna found any other entrances. If she had, she would have at least attempted to get inside. Rhanon didn't like walking into this Temple knowing so little about what was in it, but she was also glad that Jenna didn't take any unnecessary risks. If only more people in the Inquisition were as careful as her.

Rhanon exhaled heavily and said, "Well, maybe we'll get lucky and the old man will be the only thing we have to worry about."

Jenna tossed the stick she'd been holding into the fire before quipping, "Sure, and maybe Corypheus will pack up his army and leave. Can't hurt to be unrealistically optimistic."

Jenna, it seemed, was in a particularly sassy mood that day. Not that Rhanon was complaining. It was nice to have someone along who was incapable of taking things too seriously. She only hoped that the Temple didn't contain something too powerful for her and her team to handle alone.

*****

The Inquisitor had insisted that Jenna join them for dinner, and the dwarf was never one to turn down food, so she ate with them. By the time everyone had eaten their fill and were reasonably rested, two hours had passed. And all through those two hours, Jenna couldn't escape from a bad feeling that seemed to have taken root in her chest. In her mind, she knew nothing was wrong because she'd combed over the forest outside of the Temple at least four times before meeting up with the Inquisitor.

Even so, the feeling wouldn't subside, and by the time they were on their way to the Temple it had only become worse. Tree after tree they passed and everything looked to be exactly the way it had two hours ago. No Venatori waiting in the shadows, no red templars hiding behind the trees, and no fade rifts to drop demons on their heads. So why wouldn't this feeling cease?

She tried telling herself she was imagining things until she glanced over at Fenris, and an equally agitated look was painting his face. Their eyes met, and in those few seconds, they both seemed to come to the same conclusion as Fenris turned to the Inquisitor and said, "Hold on, Inquisitor."

Everyone stopped where they were and the Inquisitor asked, "What's wrong, Fenris?"

The elf's eyebrows ran together and he reached for his sword, "Do you remember what I said about sensing an ambush?"

Jenna could hear the Inquisitor start to give orders to the rest of the people there, but she did what she was trained to do, and tuned out all other sounds except for the environment around her. She listened for anything that might tell here where this ambush was coming from and scanned for anything that looked even remotely out of the ordinary.

The rustling of the leaves was due to the wind, there was no sound of footsteps coming from any direction, and she heard no voices apart from her companions'. It was obvious that there was no one in the trees, otherwise, she would have heard it, and there was no one behind them either. So where were they?

In her deep concentration, she thought she saw movement to her left, and when she turned, she saw nothing but grass and more trees. Wishful thinking, she told herself, until she saw it again. The ground had moved, there was no doubt about it, and when it moved again, she nearly gasped when she saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring up at her from beneath the grass.

She turned, intending to inform the Inquisitor when a light glow at the elf's feet caught her attention. It was subtle, but she could see the swirling pattern that was beginning to form, a pattern she was very familiar with. It was a glyph, an _ice_  glyph. It hadn't fully formed yet, but it would within a couple of seconds. And when it did, the Inquisitor would immediately be killed because she wasn't exactly standing still.

 _ _"_ Keep watching out for her _,"__ Sister Nightingale's voice echoed in her ears.

Those words drove Jenna on when she threw her body weight forward and shoved the Inquisitor off of the glyph. Jenna stumbled, and her feet landed right where the Inquisitor's had been. The glyph came alight, and Jenna felt all of her breath leave her when ice exploded from beneath her and ripped itself through her legs, arms, and torso. She raised her head just in time to see several Venatori mages leap out from holes in the ground, but she couldn't see much after that.

She was simultaneously freezing from the ice and warm from what she knew was blood pouring out from the many holes the ice had made in her body. The sounds of the battle around her were dulled by the raspy breaths she was struggling to take. Fire spells, lightning spells, and ice spells illuminated the forest around her and made it so she could see the extent of her injuries. She might as well have been a pin cushion; a great, bloody pin cushion.

It only took a few more seconds for the blood loss to finally get to her, and her vision started to blur. She was barely conscious by the time the Inquisitor and Dorian started working to remove the ice from her body. She knew it was already far too late, however. Thoughts of living through this had never crossed her mind.

In fact, only one thing still remained: _Keep watching out for her _.__  

So when she realized her head was lying in the Inquisitor's lap, she peered into the elf's sapphire eyes and choked out, "It's not your fault."

Jenna saw the tears pooling in the corners of the Inquisitor's eyes, and she prayed to Andraste that the elf would heed her words.

*****

When Jenna drew her last breath, Fenris could almost feel the cracking of the Inquisitor's heart. She cradled the dwarf's head in her hands and mumbled, "Jenna..."

He remembered how excited Jenna had been to go on this mission as it was her first "real" one. The fact that her very first solo mission had to end this way left a bad taste in his mouth. Of all the people he'd met in his life, Jenna was among the kindest. She did not deserve this.

_It's not your fault._

Those words echoed through his ears and knocked the air right out of his lungs. The Inquisitor. Jenna knew she would blame herself for this, and, in her dying breaths, tried to prevent it. But he knew the Inquisitor. She _would_ blame herself, especially since Jenna truly _had_ given her life to save her. She'd made that abundantly clear when she'd bitten his head off for his actions at Emprise du Lion. He felt like he should say _something_  at the very least since no one else present seemed in any hurry to do so.

However, before he could say a word, the Inquisitor shot to her feet and said sternly, "Come on. We have a mission to finish."

She then turned and headed toward the Temple, leaving Jenna's body where it lay. Fenris glanced at Cassandra and Dorian. Both of them looked back at him and shrugged their shoulders, seemingly equally as baffled as he was. But from the worry behind their eyes, they seemed to know just as well as he did: the Inquisitor was ripping herself apart on the inside. She just wasn't letting it show. Like any good leader, she kept her emotions in check while on a mission. His only concern was what she would do when the mission was over.

He followed her to the temple, and through the courtyard gate. As soon as they entered, Fenris' eyes were immediately drawn to the green glow coming from the Fade streams Jenna had warned them about. Just as she'd said, the rest of the courtyard was unguarded, and they didn't face any further trouble until they actually ascended the stairs to enter the Temple.

Fenris instantly noticed the change in the Inquisitor's fighting style. She loosed more fire spells in the first few minutes than he'd seen her use the entire time he'd known her. And she was far less concerned with crowd-control and far more interested in getting the fights over with as quickly as possible. The last time he'd seen her like this, it had been during their conquering of Suledin Keep. Then, she had been distressed by the sight of the Red Templars, but this time, her emotions were much wilder.

While her normal fire spells would be more controlled, concentrated, and narrow, she allowed her fire to spread, coating as many enemies as she could without concern for tactics or strategy. He'd thought that, perhaps, she was angry when they conquered Suledin Keep, but now he knew she hadn't been angry. He was seeing anger right now, and he didn't like it. 

Once the great hall of the temple was cleared of demons, Dorian pointed out some clusters of red crystals that were sitting on a nearby table. When the Inquisitor approached them, a voice Fenris knew well echoed through the room. Corypheus. The magister spoke into the crystals like they were some sort of journal.

The Inquisitor stuffed the cluster into her satchel and turned to Fenris and the others before saying, "Split up and look for the rest of these crystals. They might give us a better look into Corypheus' plans."

Dorian and Cassandra obeyed immediately, but as soon as they were gone, Fenris found that he didn't want to move. Earlier, before she'd ordered them to move on, he'd planned on saying something and at least _attempt_ to console her. And now, with Cassandra and Dorian out of ear-shot, he could try.

He took a step toward her and said, "Inquisitor."

She raised her hand and turned her face away. Her whole body trembled and he could see that she was trying v _ _ery__  hard to hold it together when she said, "Not now, Fenris. Please."

Those four words tied his hands, and he backed away. It was probably for the best, anyway. There was nothing he could have said to ease the pain wracking her soul in that moment. She took off for the other end of the room, scouring for the other crystals along the way. He looked on after her, wishing there was something he could do, but if space was what she wanted, space was what she would get. So he turned and began his own search for the crystals.

*****

 _Focus, focus, focus_ , Rhanon had to keep telling herself as she rummaged through the room. _Find the crystals, finish the mission, focus on that. Don't think about anything else._

If she could do that, if she could keep her mind on the mission, she would be able to hold it together long enough for Jenna's death to set in. And once it set in, she could keep from breaking down. She'd done it with Haven, and she'd done it with Hawke, so she could damn well do it now. She was the Inquisitor. She didn't have time to let her feelings slow her down, not with Corypheus ripping the world apart more and more with every passing day. She needed to focus.

A red shimmer from a nearby bookshelf caught her eye, and she moved to pick up the crystal cluster sitting there. As she was sliding it into her pack, a sound drew her attention. It was a voice, a voice so meek and pitiful that, if it hadn't also been low-pitched, she would have assumed it belonged to a whimpering child. She turned toward where she'd heard the voice and listened, hoping to hear it again. The thumping of her heart echoed through her chest when she heard the voice say, "Help."

_The only other thing I can tell you is that someone is in there _.__

Was it truly a victim of Corypheus begging for help, or was it a trap being laid by the demons of this place to lure her in? Had she been in a more sound state of mind, she might have asked those questions before rushing through the pair of double-doors and toward the voice. But in those few seconds, all she could focus on was "Someone needs help." She was the Inquisitor. It was her job to help people, to save people, to protect people, and she'd failed so spectacularly today. So she needed this, she needed to help whoever this was so that Jenna's death might actually _mean_  something.

The doors flung open, and she audibly gasped at the sight of a wrinkled old man wearing a black robe and a hood, on his knees, and inside of a more powerful barrier than she'd ever laid eyes on. The man's eyes were dark and sunken in, his hands shook, and every couple of seconds a weak jolt of lighting would move over him, causing his body to convulse. Apparently, Corypheus' sadism knew no bounds. She took a step into the room, intending to banish the barrier if she could and get the man out of the torturous prison.

Her impulsive actions were quickly felt, however, when the anchor in her hand sparked, three Fade streams snapped down from the ceiling, and left in their wake three despair demons. Had they been rage demons, fear demons, or even pride demons, she knew she would have been okay. But the familiar, overpowering ache that comes with loss was still very much present in her chest. So before she could even move to grasp her staff, a sharp, stinging pain shot through her head right before she was thrown into the nightmares of her younger self.

She could feel the hooded creatures rooting around in her mind, poking and prodding in order to find something to latch on to. Her training with her Keeper was still firmly in her mind, but she was quickly learning how useless it was in the face of three demons attacking her while she was vulnerable. _Don't let your emotions get the better of you, Rhanon. It will make it easier for a demon to possess you and make you an abomination_. How many times had the Keeper told her that? How many times had she said it to herself? And how quickly had she forgotten those words after Jenna died in her arms?

Jenna? _By the Creators,_ she'd screwed up again. The moment Jenna's name flashed through her mind, she knew what was going to happen. She found she was right when the room around her shifted and melted away, only to be replaced with the forest outside of the Temple. It was as if someone had sent her back an hour in time because she saw herself, her team, and Jenna standing in the middle of the forest. She saw the ice rune start appearing under her own feet, and she saw Jenna push her out of the way. She wanted to look away so badly. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend this wasn't happening, but she couldn't. She remembered enough of her training to know that if she let these images get to her, she would become possessed in seconds.

But something was different this time. Right before the ice rune exploded beneath Jenna, the vision froze in place, and a voice started echoing through the room around her, a voice she wasn't expecting to hear. 

__"_ I saw what you just did. It was clever, and I don't disapprove, but why did you feel the need to interfere with the Inquisitor's personal business? _"_ _

Leliana? Why was she hearing Leliana of all people? And who was she talking to? 

Rhanon's chest wretched when the high-pitched, sweet voice of Jenna Harding responded, __"_ The Inquisitor smiles more when Fenris is around. And after all the good she's done, don't you think she deserves to smile?"_

 _Don't you think she deserves to smile?_ Those words tore into her more harshly than the demons possibly could have on their own. Jenna had been __this__  concerned for her? She'd cared __this__ much? And what had Rhanon done in return? Jenna's body lying cold and alone in the forest outside of the Temple answered that question.

Leliana's voice pushed through again and said, " _Indeed, she does. It is good that you watch out for her, Jenna. Somebody should. Maker knows she won't do it herself._ "

But the demons didn't give her a moment to take the words in before they threw in Leliana's next statement, " _Keep watching out for her. I think she may need it in the days to come._ "

As soon as Leliana's voice faded, Rhanon's head began to throb as Jenna's voice started repeating, over and over, " _Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her. _"__

For only a fleeting second, she saw Jenna standing at the top of the stairs in the Suledin Keep courtyard. She was peering down at Imshael, and as soon as he started trying to cast his spell on Rhanon, the words echoed again, " _Keep watching out for her_."

Jenna drew an arrow from her quiver, loaded it into the bow, and shot it at Imshael, canceling his spell and preventing Rhanon from seeing a face she didn't want to see.

Then, as quickly as the image appeared, it was gone, and Rhanon was back in the forest. The vision was still frozen where it had been, and the words came again, " _Keep watching out for her_."

The vision started moving again, the ice rune exploded under Jenna, and the ice ripped through her body. As soon as the blood started to flow, the vision shifted and Jenna's head was lying in Rhanon's lap, just as it had before the dwarf succumbed to her injuries. The words repeated, only this time they sounded meek, like Jenna was struggling to say them, " _Keep watching out for her _.__ "

Jenna's eyes stared up at Rhanon's and the words that would probably haunt Rhanon for the rest of her life passed through her lips, " _It's not your fault."_

_Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her. Keep watching out for her._

_It's not your fault._

Jenna. She was so dedicated, so loyal. How had Rhanon missed it? How had she spent so much time with the dwarf and never realized how much she truly cared? Even in her dying moments, Jenna was focused on Rhanon's feelings, not her own survival. And now she was dead. Her devotion pushed her to give her life to save Rhanon's. How many more were like her? How many more of her people were equally as devoted? How many more of her people did unseen things to try to help her, and how many of them died knowing she would never know what they did for her?  

Finally, Jenna's voice ceased, and her stomach turned when her own voice took its place, " _The Herald of Andraste. The beloved Inquisitor who chose the People's banner over the Templars and the Maker. They love you so much that they will throw their lives away if it means keeping you safe. Even people who barely knew you."_

The vision shifted again, and the forest was replaced with the green, grey, and black of the Fade. The arena where she'd battled the Nightmare was clearly before her, complete with the hordes of spider-shaped fear demons he enjoyed summoning and the giant spider himself.

Her own voice taunted her again, __"_ You're just so disgustingly good. You make everyone believe in you, and then they die for you _."__

Three figures materialized right in front of the Nightmare, and when they cleared, Rhanon forgot how to breathe. Herself, Loghain, and Hawke stared down the creature, and its dozens of pulsating eyes stared right back, its fleshy mandibles clicking in anticipation.

No. She couldn't see this again. Not now. Not after.....

__"_ Go, I'll cover you _."_ _

No.

__"_ What? No way, Hawke! I'm not leaving you here _!"_ _

No!

__"_ Inquisitor, there's no time to argue! You need to get out! Just....take care of Varric for me, and if you see Fenris tell him... Nah, sod it. He knows. _"_ _

Wait..... Fenris. Until this moment, she'd very nearly forgotten she was on a mission. She was sitting in a Temple, surrounded by three demons, and Fenris was not far away. She could only assume that, since her people hadn't attempted to stop these demons, that they were being somehow detained. And if they were.....were they seeing this? Could Fenris see what she was seeing? Was __he__  about to watch Hawke die along with her?

She turned her head frantically and looked behind her, only to feel her chest cave in one more time at the sight of Cassandra, Dorian, and Fenris, surrounded by demon corpses and gaping straight ahead with wide eyes. How long had they been fighting trying to reach Rhanon? How many demons had they been forced to fell due to her springing and obvious trap by opening that door? But those were not the most important questions. The most important question was this: Was she about to repay Fenris for trying to save her by letting him watch Hawke's death like she had to?

She decided no. No, she wasn't. No matter how much pain she was in right now, she knew it would pale in comparison to the pain Fenris would feel if he had to witness that demon impale Hawke with its claw. So she pushed her pain down, clawed through the voice that was still making her head throb, and reached into herself to force out the strength she needed to stop these demons.

She set her hands aflame and held them out in front of her. The voice was still slamming down on her brain, but she kept it at bay by repeating to herself over and over " _Don't let him see. Don't let him see. Don't let him see._ "

The flames expanded as she poured more power into them. The vision in front of her began to melt away right before the Nightmare's claw could pierce Hawke, and when the power in her hands reached an apex, she released it. A wave of flame exploded from her and fanned outward in a circle, instantly stunning all three of the despair demons and completely canceling their spell. The room immediately returning to normal was jarring, but she knew she didn't have time to let it get to her. The creatures still weren't dead.

So she shakily climbed to her feet and shouted, "Dorian!"

The Tevinter snapped to attention and rushed to her side. They pooled their power and created two massive walls of fire, one on each side of the demons. In perfect unison, they brought the two walls together, trapping the demons inside and burning them until they turned to ashes at Rhanon's feet. The anchor stopped sparking, and she knew the danger was past.

And with that realization came the familiar feeling of the adrenaline leaving her system. Even if she wished to, she could not remain on her feet, and her knees gave out. She could feel Dorian's hand on her shoulder and she could hear him desperately asking if she was okay, but after what had just occurred, she didn't have enough space left in her mind to pay attention to him. She was focused on one thing and one thing only: Fenris.

Since she'd told him to gain better control over his grief, he'd been doing so well. Before, bringing up Hawke in conversation would leave him feeling uncomfortable at best and angry at worst. But recently, she'd been able to even go so far as to ask him questions about Hawke, and he could answer them without showing even the slightest bit of discomfort. Now, though, what was going to happen? He'd seen her in a great moment of weakness, and that weakness had forced him to witness Hawke's final moments.

Forget going on missions with her anymore. Would he even want to speak to her again after this?


	13. Chapter 13

The information Rhanon learned from the trapped old man was beyond crucial. It was the kind of information that would cripple Corypheus more than any other information she'd obtained in the past. And had the situation been different, she'd have left the Temple of Dumat dancing for joy. But the situation was not different. So as she walked out of the Temple, only one thing was on her mind: damage-control.

She made only one stop before heading to the nearest Inquisition camp. She had to get Jenna's body. She couldn't carry it back to Skyhold herself, but she could at least bring it to the camp and make sure it was prepared for delivery. Plus, she needed to get something of Jenna's, a personal effect of some kind to give to Lace Harding. If she was going to break the news, she needed to at least show that she cared about Jenna.

Ordinarily, she would have ordered Cassandra to carry the dwarf. She was far stronger, after all. But this was not Cassandra's burden, this was Rhanon's, and she would bear it on her own. So she hoisted the blood-drenched dwarf onto her tiny shoulders and ignored the offers from Cassandra to carry her instead as she headed to the nearest base camp.

Fenris said nothing to her the entire time, and every time she would steal a glance in his direction, his face was so hollow, so empty that she couldn't have read anything from it even if she tried. But his fists were clenched, and his jaw was closed tight, both telltale signs of him holding something back. Whether it was sadness or anger he was holding back, she wasn't sure, but both options made her chest ache again.

So she didn't look at him again and kept her eyes forward until she reached the camp. The human nurse waiting at the camp took Jenna's body off Rhanon's shoulders and shook her head at the several scouts who came to investigate. Rhanon saw the faces of the scouts wilt, but she didn't have room to worry about their sadness in that moment. She had to worry about Lace Harding, and started searching Jenna's body for something to bring her. The scouts started voicing their protests, but she decided she would explain when she was finished.

She saw a silver locket in the shape of the Chantry sun hanging around the dwarf's neck. When she flipped it over, she found an engraving on the back that read:

_For my favorite cousin. Try not to lose this one. -Lace_

She gently slid the locket off of Jenna and turned to the nurse and the scouts before saying, "I'll get back to Skyhold before Jenna's body does, so I need something to give to Lace when I break the news."

The scouts and the nurse didn't respond, but she could tell that they understood, so she pocketed the locket and finally ordered the rest of the team to return to Skyhold. She'd thought the trip to the Temple was long, but the trip back was going to be longer still.

*****

Fenris had taken the Inquisitor seriously when she'd initially ordered him to find a better way to deal with his grief. Whenever he thought of Hawke, and the memory became too much, he would take the anger out on either the practice dummies in the courtyard or on whatever enemy the Inquisitor ordered him to fight next. It had been at least a few months since he'd arrived in the Inquisition, and with each passing day, it had been getting progressively easier and easier to hear Hawke's name or think about her without deteriorating into despair or anger.

But seeing Hawke, hearing her voice, yet knowing she wasn't actually there, nothing in the world could have prepared him for what that was going to do to him. All of the progress he'd made over the past months was near-instantaneously reversed, and she may as well have died yesterday from the way his heart was aching.

_And if you see Fenris, tell him..._

In those moments right before Hawke died, she truly had been thinking of him, and the revelation was not comforting. It should have been. He should have been happy knowing that she loved him enough to think of him before going to her death. But all it did was remind him that a woman who loved him _that_ much was now gone. He was not an easy man to love. He knew that. So he also knew the chances of him ever having that again were slim to none. And even if he _could_ have it again, would it ever feel the same? Somehow he doubted it. There was no one in the world like Hawke, which was why it had been so damned easy to fall for her in the first place.

During the trip back to Skyhold, he noticed the Inquisitor make occasional glances in his direction. He never looked back. He didn't want to see the guilt behind her eyes, the ever-present pain that he knew was weighing her down. If he saw that and allowed himself to feel it, he was sure it would overload him and he would snap right then and there. Had he not seen Hawke, had the demons' nightmare stopped after Jenna, he might have been able to shoulder some of the Inquisitor's pain, but the demons had made sure to shatter both himself and the Inquisitor as much as they could.

So until one of them could pull it together, they would have to be apart because this....this was too much to handle.

*****

Rhanon stepped through the gates of Skyhold, and every person who noticed her seemed to stop what they were doing and gape. She knew she was exhausted. She'd hardly slept at all on the journey back because her every dream was riddled with Hawke and Jenna's faces. They screamed at her, blamed her, and begged to know why she'd let them die for her. She didn't have an answer. She never had an answer.

As soon as Fenris was clear of the gate, she saw him bolt up the closest set of stairs. She wanted terribly to follow him and do whatever she could to comfort him, but she knew she was in no shape. If anything, she would make things worse. So she turned to Cassandra in time to see Dorian follow Fenris up the stairs.

"Dorian, don't!" Rhanon called after him.

He didn't seem to hear her, however, and she could only hope Fenris was okay enough to remember his promise because she did not have the strength to fight him today.

Cassandra placed a hand on Rhanon's shoulder and said, "Inquisitor, you should go and give the report to Leliana. Give me the locket, and I will tell Scout Harding."

Rhanon appreciated what Cassandra was trying to do. No doubt the Seeker could see, just as well as everyone else, how much pain Rhanon was in, and how mentally drained she was. But she couldn't let Cassandra carry this burden. Lace needed to know, beyond all doubts, that Jenna's death was not something Rhanon took lightly, and the only way she would know that was if Rhanon told her.

So she shook her head and said, "No, Cassandra. Keeping Jenna safe was my responsibility, not yours. You go talk to Leliana."

Cassandra tightened her grip on Rhanon's shoulder and said, "Inquisitor, please..."

Rhanon knew Cassandra was only trying to help, but the Seeker needed to understand that this wasn't something Rhanon was going to budge on. She reached her hand up and placed it over the one Cassandra was using to hold her and said calmly yet sternly, "I _can't_  send someone else to tell her, Cassandra."

Cassandra looked back at her for several long seconds, and eventually released Rhanon's shoulder when it was obvious she wasn't going to give in. Cassandra hung her head and said, "Yes, Inquisitor. I know..... I just....."

Rhanon forced a smile. "I know. It's enough that you offered. If you truly want to help, take over just for today. Just.....give me today."

Cassandra nodded immediately and said, "Of course, Inquisitor."

Rhanon nodded back and forced herself to move forward. Her hand was in her pocket, and she fumbled the locket between her fingers as she ascended the nearby stairs. She came upon the tavern and, unsurprisingly, found Scout Harding standing in her normal hang-out spot. She was talking to Josephine and laughing at something she'd said. Rhanon took a moment to stop. She wanted to take in that one moment of Harding smiling and carrying on without a worry. She needed to have that to hold on to before she killed that smile by delivering the worst news she could possibly deliver.

She grasped the locket in her clenched fist and took a step forward, knowing that all the battles in the world couldn't prepare her for the look on Harding's face.

*****

Fenris had heard the shiny mage follow him as soon as he'd taken off. He had hoped Dorian would give up once it was obvious Fenris wasn't in the mood to talk, but the man was relentless. He followed him up the stairs and across the battlements until Fenris came upon one of the two doors to the tower. At which point, he tore the door open and went inside. Just as he'd expected, Dorian followed him. He spun around and placed a hand firmly on Dorian's chest before shoving him right back out of the door.

As Dorian was stumbling backward, he asked, "Fenris, what are you doing?"

Once Dorian was out of the room, Fenris answered, "Keeping my promise."

He then slammed the door and locked it before quickly rushing to the other door and doing the same. The room was old, decrepit, and full of furniture that was falling apart, the perfect place to loose his anger. So that's what he did. He took his sword off his back, leaned it against one of the walls and started grabbing anything he could get his hands on. He threw a nearby nightstand into the wall and watched it break into pieces. He tore one of the pillows on the bed into shreds. He knocked over a chest of drawers and flipped the bed completely upside down.

By the time he was finished, every piece of furniture in the room was either destroyed or no longer usable. It was only when he stopped moving that he was able to hear himself breathing heavily. He was still angry, but he'd gotten enough of it out of his system that he was no longer dangerous to anyone around him, and that had been his goal.

So he left his sword where it was and climbed into the rafters, fully intending to sit up there at least until nightfall. He didn't want to be around other people right now, and this was the only place in the entire keep, other than his quarters, where he could reasonably avoid them.

It seemed, however, that being alone was not on his agenda for the day as a familiar cloud of smoke appeared on the rafters next to him, and Cole walked out of it. Fenris had agreed to set his distrust of the boy aside during missions, but he still did not like him, nor his disturbing ability to always know what people were thinking.

So he immediately said, "Leave me, boy. I have no desire to speak to you."

Like he always did, Cole brushed off Fenris' anger and simply answered, "I know."

Fenris felt the snarl in his throat before he said, "If you know then why are you here?"

The boy ducked his head and started fidgeting with his fingers. "She's hurting. Normally I can't feel her when she's hurting because of the shine in her hand. It's too bright. It keeps me out. But she told Scout Harding, and now she's hurting so much that I can hear it. It's so loud, like screeching birds."

Shine in her hand? He was talking about the Inquisitor. Of course, Fenris knew the Inquisitor was in pain, but she was hardly the kind of woman to ever let anyone know just how _much_. However, if Cole was to be believed, her pain was so great that the boy could feel it despite the hindrance of the anchor. If that were the case, why was he telling Fenris about it?

Fenris' eyebrows ran together and he snapped, "Why are you telling __me__  this? I thought it was your _purpose_  to heal the pain of others."

Cole flinched a little and answered, "Yes. I heal hurts. I soothe souls and save the sick. But I'm not the one who can help her. You are."

Fenris had guessed the boy was mad, but now he knew for sure. __He__  was the absolute last person who could help the Inquisitor right now. He was in no better shape than she was. The room beneath him was evidence enough of that.

He scoffed at Cole and said, "No, I'm not."

Cole wasn't backing down, however, and said, " _Weak, weak. I'm so weak. My weakness did this. Too weak to protect Jenna. Too weak to resist the demons. He saw it. My weakness made him see it. Weak, weak, weak. Pathetic, worthless excuse for a leader. Why would he follow you now?_ "

Fenris had always disliked that habit of Cole's. It was disturbing to him that the boy would walk around reading people's minds and revealing their secrets to anyone who could hear him. But if what Cole was saying was _truly_  what the Inquisitor was feeling in that moment, then he was grateful for the boy's abilities.

He had to be sure, though, so he asked, "The Inquisitor is saying these things?"

Cole nodded. "She thinks you'll hate her, that you'll leave and never come back because you saw her weakness. I know that's not true, but she won't believe me. She has to hear it from you."

Weakness. The word left a bad taste in Fenris' mouth. The Inquisitor was many things, but weak was certainly not one of them. It was unreal to him that she could even think that of herself. She watched Jenna die, picked herself up, and finished the mission even after being attacked by despair demons. Did she truly believe he would hate her simply because the demons did exactly what demons are known for doing?

No. He would not let her believe it. Losing Jenna and being put through the despair demons' nightmare had done more than enough damage on their own. He couldn't fix those things, but if reassuring her that he didn't hate her would help relieve some of the pain she was feeling, he could _definitely_ do that. So, without another word to Cole, he leaped from the rafters and left the tower.

He only hoped the boy was right.

*****

Rhanon didn't know what was worse, the look on Lace Harding's face when she broke the news, or how damned understanding she'd been about it. When Rhanon admitted that Jenna gave her life trying to save her, she was ready for anger, blame, and hatred. She was ready for Harding to curse her and refuse to work for her anymore. And she wouldn't have blamed her.

But Harding didn't blame her. In fact, she was happy that Jenna "died a hero." Rhanon hated that phrase. She knew it was supposed to be comforting to those still alive to know that their loved one died protecting someone else, but it wasn't a bloody comfort when _you_  were the person they died for.

As soon as it was obvious that Scout Harding wanted to be alone, Rhanon walked away and went straight into the keep. She approached the door to her quarters and waved over one of the nearby guards. The shocked look in his eyes told her just how wretched she probably looked, but she ignored it and said, "Seeker Cassandra is taking over my duties just for today, so have a guard posted outside of this door to stop anyone coming in."

The guard saluted, and said, "Yes, Inquisitor."

She nodded, placed her hand on the doorknob and said, "Thank you."

As soon as she was inside the safety and privacy of her quarters, she ran to the only place in the entire keep where she felt completely safe: her closet. It was small, made of stone, and only had one entrance so she could always know if someone was coming. She closed the door behind her and pressed her back against the chest of drawers that held her casual clothes.

_So do you flirt like that with everyone you meet, Inquisitor?_

_Do the Dalish intentionally add nature to all of their insults, or is it just a coincidence?_

_Sure, and maybe Corypheus will pack up his army and leave. Can't hurt to be unrealistically optimistic._

_After all the good she's done, don't you think she deserves to smile?_

_It's not your fault._

Except it _was_ her fault. She was the Inquisitor. It was her job to protect her people, and if they died, it was because she failed. That's what it means to be a leader. It was something the Keeper taught her from a very young age.

__"_ It is a Keeper's duty to protect her people, Da'len. If your hunters die because you sent them off to a cave that wasn't safe, you must be the one to admit to their families, and to yourself, that you failed that duty."_

She'd never taken those words seriously before, but now that one of her hunters had died, she understood. If only the Keeper had had some words of wisdom for how to deal with the guilt of knowing you failed. But no. She was alone in this. There were no words, no actions, and no amount of comfort that could fix this. Jenna was dead because Rhanon failed her duty.

So, for the first time in a very long time, she slid down to the floor, curled into a ball, and released ugly, wet sobs into her knees. It wasn't helping anything, she knew that, but it had to come out somehow. Better that she do it here than risk revealing to the entire Inquisition just how weak and pathetic she really was.

*****

When Fenris first stepped into the main hall and saw a guard posted in front of the Inquisitor's door, he thought there had to be some mistake. In all the time he'd been here, he'd never seen her post a guard there before. But when he approached and the guard told him, in no uncertain terms, that the Inquisitor did not want to be disturbed, that seemed to be the end of his crusade to help her. He turned and left the great hall, fully intending to return to the tower.

But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, Cole's words ringing in his ears stopped him where he was.

_She thinks you'll hate her, that you'll leave and never come back because you saw her weakness._

_I'm not the one who can help her. You are._

As much as he didn't like to admit it, Cole had never been wrong about anyone before. He said feeding a cat some mint and making it dance would cheer up the cook, and it did. He said sprinkling breadcrumbs on the ramparts to attract birds would keep a soldier alive, and it did. So it was very unlikely that he was wrong about the Inquisitor. And if he was right, and Fenris was, in fact, the person who could help her, was he really about to let a guard at her bedroom door stop him from doing that?

He decided no, he wasn't. That door wasn't the only way into her quarters. He sprinted along the side of the building and climbed the wall to her balcony, like he'd done several times already. When he pulled himself up to level ground, he was confused when he didn't immediately see her. Her bed was made perfectly, her desk undisturbed, and the door to her washroom wide open.

Only one thing gave away her location. The few times he'd been to her quarters, the closet door had always been open. He felt the cool doorknob under his palm and exhaled heavily one time before he pulled the closet door open.

Had he not been so certain it was her, he would have sworn he was looking upon a different person. She was sitting on the floor, her back to a chest of drawers, and when she jumped from the sound of him opening the door, he saw that she'd been sobbing. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes puffy, and tears stained both her face and her leather shirt. Her hair bun had come loose, and two large locks of hair hung down in front of her face. He'd known their last mission had taken its toll, but this was the first time he'd ever seen her truly broken.

With that revelation came a feeling he wasn't expecting: the desire to fix this. Her tears had never been something he'd thought about, but now that he'd seen them, he decided that he hated them. A woman as caring, generous, and understanding as her did not deserve to feel this way, and he was prepared to do or say whatever it took to bring this to an end.

Her blood-shot eyes peered up at him when she said, "So what happens now, Fenris?"

That was hardly the first thing he'd expected her to say, so he asked, "What do you mean?"

She brought one of her hands up to wipe the tears from her face. "Well, _this_ , along with what happened at the Temple of Dumat, has shown you just how __weak__  I am. You still planning on sticking around, or are you going to run for the hills?"

Fenris had wanted Cole to be wrong. He wouldn't stand for this, not when he could stop it. So he scoffed and said, "Only _you_  could go through what you went through and then call your reactions "weakness.""

She scoffed right back. "I walked _right_  into a trap, Fenris. _And_  you found me bawling in my closet. There's not a lot of room for interpretation."

He'd heard enough. Clearly, she wasn't going to listen without getting some sense shaken into her. So he approached and took her by her upper arms, careful not to squeeze too hard as he dragged her to her feet and pushed her against the chest of drawers. He kept his eyes trained on hers when he said, "And here I thought you _didn't_  believe you are the Herald of Andraste. Or was that a lie?"

He saw the anger flare in her eyes when she shoved his hands away and snapped, "Of course not! I'm not arrogant enough to think that!"

He then placed both of his hands against the chest of drawers, one on each side of her head, "Then explain to me why you think you're supposed to be _perfect_."

The question clearly caught her off guard as the anger lifted from her face and was instantly replaced by shock.

His hands dropped to her shoulders, and he said, "You once told me that you don't expect me to be made of stone, so why do you think _you_  should be? You're just as mortal as I am, Inquisitor."

Her eyes lowered, and he could feel the pain still radiating off of her when she answered, "Because I _am_ the Inquisitor. I'm supposed to hold it together no matter what so that my people can always have _someone_  to look to. I'm supposed to be their strength."

Before he even thought about what he was going to say, he blurted out, "You _are_!"

He knew his face was turning red. The heat in his cheeks was evidence of that. But he'd come this far, so he figured he may as well keep going and said, "A weak woman wouldn't have completed the mission. A weak woman wouldn't have carried Jenna's body back to camp. A weak woman wouldn't have broken the news to Lace Harding herself. And a weak woman wouldn't have held back her tears for nearly a week just to avoid the possibility of her people seeing her cry."

Almost absent his own will, his left hand moved from her shoulder to the side of her neck. He could feel her pulse pounding against his palm, and her eyes were wide and staring into his in utter bewilderment as he said, "Suffice it to say that I have known a great many weak people in my life, Inquisitor. I can assure you that if you were weak, I would not be here. But I am here. More than that, I _want_  to be here, and the fact that you make mistakes and feel sorrow when your people die isn't going to change that."

In the silence that followed, a very familiar phenomenon happened. It had happened the day she'd scolded him for nearly dying for her. They were standing there, staring at each other, and he could, once again, feel the same strange feeling hanging in the air between them. And, just like before, her eyes told him she could feel it too. When it happened the first time, he'd brushed it off as a one-time occurrence, but now that it was happening again, he had to seriously question what it was. Especially since he didn't exactly hate it.

Luckily, she broke the trance they were in when she looked away and gently placed her hands on his wrists. She nudged his hands away from her neck and shoulder and said, "I'm sorry you had to see it, Fenris. I never wanted....."

He knew she was referring to the vision the despair demons had created. While the image was still jarring, he had never blamed her for the fact that he'd seen it. But he also knew her. Telling her it wasn't her fault was pointless because she'd blame herself anyway.

So he said the only other thing that might make her feel better, "I'm not sorry. It just gives me more motivation to rip out Corypheus' heart."

She exhaled heavily at his words and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling when she said, "How do you do that? How do you hold it together so damned well?"

He huffed and half smiled. "I think when you see the state of the tower you'll find that I did no such thing."

She sighed. "Well, better the tower than Dorian's face, I suppose."

He guessed that was as close to a joke as she was going to get that day and simply responded, "Indeed."

She reached her hand up to rub the back of her neck and said, "Thanks for coming by, Fenris. I think I'm going to take a bath and lie down for a while. I'll talk to you later."

She started to leave, and another strange feeling overcame him. And even though he didn't understand it, his body moved at its command and his hand reached out to grasp her wrist. She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him again, wearing the same shocked expression she'd worn a few moments ago.

His heart hammered his chest, and the words seemed to form on his tongue all by themselves, "Are you going to be all right, Inquisitor?"

She didn't move or say anything for a couple of seconds. When she finally did move, it was to turn the hand he was holding around so that she could wrap her tiny fingers around his wrist too. To his surprise, the lyrium on his wrist sparked at her touch, and his heart beat faster. What in Andraste's name was happening right now? He'd never behaved this way around her before.

Still, he couldn't take any of this back now, and after a few seconds, she gently pulled her wrist away and said, "Give me a few days. I'll let you know."

She walked away after that, and he knew that was his cue to leave, but his feet didn't want to move, and he kept his eyes trained on her until she disappeared into the washroom and closed the door. Once she was out of sight, his feet came unglued from the floor and he took off over the balcony. He landed on the ground and immediately rushed for his quarters, trying desperately not to think about how the skin where she'd touched him was still glowing.


	14. Chapter 14

Fenris might have been ready to give Rhanon a few days, but she quickly found that the rest of the world wasn't when, not even two days after the incident at the Temple of Dumat, Rhanon was approached by Ser Barris while on her way to the war room.

At first, she thought nothing of it, and threw on the best smile she could muster when she said, "Ser Barris! Good to see you. Did you need something?"

When he didn't smile back and motioned for her to follow him, she knew that her day was about to take a turn for the terrible. She followed Barris through the door that led to Vivienne's balcony, and they stopped on the stairs, safely out of earshot of the nobles still populating the great hall.

She leaned her shoulder against the wall beside them and asked, "What's going on?"

The Templar crossed his arms, and she could see the discomfort in his eyes when he began, "Something has happened, Inquisitor, and I wanted you to hear it from me before anyone else so I can explain."

The longer this confrontation went on, the more uneasy Rhanon became. For Barris to go to all this trouble, whatever happened had to be big. She tried to keep the worry from her face, however, and answered, "All right. Speak freely, Barris."

He saluted and went on, "Myself and a few other Templars are being accused of murdering a group of rebel mages outside of Denerim."

The accusation was so ridiculous, so divorced from reality, that she didn't hesitate to say, "Well, I don't believe that for a second, so what __actually__  happened?"

For a moment, she thought Barris didn't hear her because he simply stared back at her with an utterly baffled look in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow and was about to repeat the question when Barris said, "You aren't even going to ask me if we did it?"

She moved away from the wall and placed her hands on her hips when she answered, "No, because I know you would never do that."

At last, a smile spread across the Templar's lips and he said, "Thank you, Inquisitor. I shall try to remain worthy of the faith you have in me."

She grinned and shook her head. "I'd much rather you try to tell me what actually happened, if you don't mind."

He nodded, and carried on, "Very soon after the murders occurred, we were approached by a group of radical mages who told us they had planted evidence at the scene of the crime as well as in a few other places that would finger myself and the Templars under my command as the murderers. Evidently, they are doing it for revenge against you for the "murders" of the six radical mages who attacked Skyhold."

She rolled her eyes. She should have known the confrontation with those rebels was going to come back and bite her in the ass. She didn't allow herself to get too hopeful about the confession, though, and said, "And, of course, you and your Templars were the only ones who heard this confession."

"Yes, Your Worship," he said. "But the radicals made it very clear that they would be involving the Chantry and the Mage Rebellion. If I were to guess, I would say that there are probably representatives from both organizations on their way here right now to demand the Inquisition take action against us."

Her chest became heavy from the dread that quickly moved through it. The Chantry __and__ the Mage Rebellion? It was bad enough that she was going to have to try to pacify the rebel Mages, who are already anti-Templar to begin with, but she was going to have to deal with a stuffed-shirt from the Chantry too? Before his sudden and extremely helpful epiphany, Chancellor Roderick had shown her just how illogical members of the Chantry can be, and how influential. If she didn't get out in front of this quickly, she was going to have one monster of a mess on her hands.

So she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "All right, Barris. Get together with Leliana, tell her everything you just told me, and tell her to find the evidence we need to prove you and the others are innocent. I'll try to stall the politicians until she does."

Barris saluted again, "Yes, Your Worship. Good luck."

Once Barris was gone, Rhanon didn't move for a few moments. With her back pressed against the wall, she brought her hand to her forehead and sighed heavily at the headache she knew she would be facing soon. She'd barely slept since returning from the Temple of Dumat, and she didn't foresee very much sleep in the near future either, so she _really_ didn't need this.

She peeled her back away from the wall and took a step toward the door Barris had left through only to walk into Fenris who was coming through the door at the same time. He caught her by her upper arms, and her hands fell against his chest. The white shirt beneath his leather coat was partially open at the top, so for that fleeting second, her fingertips brushed against his skin. The lyrium in his chest released a faint glow, and her cheeks burned in response.

She pulled her hands back as soon as he released her arms and tried to ignore the flutter in her chest. She could still feel the warmth of his skin on her fingertips, though, and cursed her brain for making her remember that moment of weakness when she'd taken hold of his wrist. As much as she liked him, she couldn't allow herself to become reliant on him, and by responding to his touch as she did, she let him carry her burdens for those few seconds. And it felt good, too good. If she let herself feel that too many times, she would start to crave it, and she didn't want to think about what that would mean for her or for him.

So she hoped to put the thoughts out of her mind by saying, "Hey, Fenris. What's going on?"

"I was about to ask you," he said. "That Templar didn't look happy."

She sighed. "No, I suppose he wouldn't. He and a few other Templars are being framed for the murder of several rebel mages."

She paused long enough to cross her arms and groan before carrying on, "And _I_  have to prepare to pacify the politicians until Leliana can find the evidence to prove my Templars innocent."

He rolled his eyes and said jokingly. "You sure we can't just kill them?"

She had to admit it was tempting. Especially since she knew that, no matter what happened, the Mage Rebellion representative was going to leave with a hundred lies on his lips that he would spread to every corner of Thedas simply because she chose the Templars over his group. As for the Chantry, if the Mothers she met in Val Royeaux were any indication, she was in for a long-winded lecture about things the representative knew nothing about followed by slander. If only murdering them _wouldn't_  result in an even bigger headache. It might almost be worth it.

She shook her head and answered, "Sometimes I envy Chief Movran and his barbarians. It must be nice for things to be so bloody simple."

She wasn't kidding, either. Right now, she'd kill for something to be as simple as "smacking her holdings with goat's blood." However, she knew she needed to stop fretting over what was going to happen and actually start preparing for it, so she ran her hand over the back of her neck and said, "Well, I'd better go talk to Josephine and see if she has any advice. I could really use it right about now. I'll see you later, Fenris."

He nodded. "Inquisitor."

She then moved past him and out of the door, absolutely dreading every step she took. The day may have only started, but it couldn't be over fast enough.

*****

The Inquisitor disappeared into Josephine's office and Fenris didn't see her come out again until the two politicians she'd been expecting finally arrived. He knew which was the Mage immediately as she sneered at every Templar she saw and walked with a greater air of superiority than even Vivienne. He hadn't thought such a thing possible. Surprisingly enough, the Chantry representative remained relatively silent at first. As foolish as it was, Fenris hoped that the man might remain a silent observer.

When the Inquisitor emerged from Josephine's office and approached her throne, the eyes of the mage and the Chancellor followed her. When she finally sat down, neither of them even gave her the courtesy of a greeting before the mage said, "Inquisitor, I am Enchanter Lilian. We have come to-"

The Inquisitor cut her off immediately and said, "I know why you're here. You both believe my Knight Captain and a small group of his Templars murdered several Rebel Mages outside of Denerim."

To Fenris' extreme displeasure, the greying Chancellor spoke up, "You say "we" believe it, Inquisitor. Surely you are not implying that you do not believe it? The evidence points directly to them."

It was laughable to Fenris that a member of the Chantry was putting so much emphasis on "evidence" when he believed in the Maker with no real evidence.

The Inquisitor did not allow the Chancellor to intimidate her, however, and shot back, "Indeed it does, Chancellor. But my Knight-Captain already put forth his own defense before you arrived. He claims he and his men are being framed by a group of radical rebel mages who are seeking revenge against me."

The mage's brown eyes narrowed and she scoffed before saying, "Of course a Templar would deny _any_ responsibility for his actions. They've never had to worry about responsibility before, so why start now?"

Fenris saw the anger flash over the Inquisitor's face, but, with a restraint he could never show, she kept her voice calm and devoid of any malice when she said, "Perhaps in the Mage Rebellion, _what_ a man is means more than his character or his past actions, but that's not how it works in the Inquisition, Enchanter. When I sent Ser Barris to investigate a small village near the ruins of Lothering, all of the evidence seemed to point to a dangerous abomination attacking the townspeople. However, Ser Barris looked more closely and discovered the "abomination" was merely a frightened young mage who had not received formal training because _your_  rebellion forced him out of the Circle before his training was complete. Ser Barris personally protected that poor young man from an angry mob and escorted him to safety."

The Enchanter and the Chancellor both seemed to be tongue-tied, for which Fenris was grateful. Listening to the Enchanter speak with such sickening preachiness was unbearable.

The Inquisitor leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees, "Therefore, Enchanter, Chancellor, I have elected to give Ser Barris and his men the same benefit of the doubt he gave that mage, the benefit _you_  would have me deny them. My Spymaster is currently investigating the situation, and if there is any evidence Ser Barris and his men are being framed, she will find it. Then we can put this whole mess behind us and get on with our lives."

As she continued to speak, Fenris couldn't help but wonder what the Inquisitor had been so worried about. She was effortlessly keeping these politicians on the defensive, not giving them even an inch of wiggle room.

The Chancellor stepped forward, "And if it turns out your Templar is lying?"

The Inquisitor didn't hesitate and said, "I won't like it, but he and his men will be punished for their actions."

On perfect, annoying cue, the Enchanter crossed her arms and said, "And you expect us to believe that after the clear bias you have shown toward the Templars, even going so far as to choose them over your own people?"

When Fenris had first met the Inquisitor, she'd mentioned how people were constantly accusing her of "siding against her own kind." Now he was seeing just how true that statement was. It seemed every new mage she met threw that accusation at her. Did none of them have any concept of originality?

The Chancellor glanced briefly at the mage before looking to the Inquisitor and saying, "I am inclined to agree, Inquisitor. If your investigation turns up nothing, I'm afraid I must insist that the Templars be turned over to the Chantry for judgment."

Who did the man think he was that he could make such statements? Fenris kept his eyes on the Inquisitor's face as the same sentiment seemed to pass over her face. The Chancellor and the Enchanter were certainly two of a kind in their arrogance.

The Inquisitor leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, "No. If you recall, the Templars broke away from the Chantry just as the mages broke from the Circles. And the Chantry has been in no hurry to win back their loyalty. They are bound to the Inquisition now, so you no longer have any authority to judge them."

The Enchanter didn't miss a beat and snapped, "Typical Templar apologist."

The Chancellor waved his hand up and down in a sort of "calm down" motion when he said, "Now now, Enchanter. The Inquisitor is going to see reason."

From the Chancellor's reaction to the Enchanter's outburst, Fenris immediately deduced what was happening. He had thought it strange that a Chantry representative was showing up for this "trial" when the Chantry had no involvement in any part of the crime. Now he knew why. He only hoped the Inquisitor could see it as well.

The Inquisitor leaned one of her elbows on the armrest of the throne and said, "I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself Chancellor, and my answer will not change. Not only are the Templars _my_  responsibility now, but I will not sit by as you abuse your position in order to hand Ser Barris and his men over to Enchanter Lilian."

A smile spread across Fenris' lips. Of course, she figured it out. He shouldn't have been surprised. The resolve on the faces of both the Enchanter and the Chancellor faltered for only a few fleeting seconds, but those seconds were intensely satisfying.

The Enchanter wasted no time in putting her mask back on and snapped, "How _dare_  you!"

The Inquisitor was not intimidated, however, and said, "Please, Enchanter, there is no other reason for the Chancellor to be here. If you want to keep telling yourself you are not colluding with him in order to get your hands on my Templars, be my guest, but do not play games with _me_."

The Enchanter and the Chancellor looked in each others' direction, and both seemed to be fumbling to figure out how to respond. And in those few moments, Fenris felt a whole new feeling move through him as he stared up at the Inquisitor. Watching her crush the politicians at their own game at every turn, his chest burned with something he hadn't felt in quite some time: pride.

So he kept smiling at her until she finally glanced in his direction and their eyes met. Since he had her attention for that brief moment, he gave her an approving nod, hoping to let her know how truly impressed he was with her ability to hold her own. The heat in his chest intensified when she smiled back, and he had to catch his breath as he realized she'd never looked more stunning than she did at that moment. She was unafraid, confident, and fully in control.

Not that the Enchanter and her pet weren't going to keep trying to wrestle that control away from her, no matter how foolish they already looked. The Enchanter maintained her air of superiority when she said, "Accusations of collusion coming from the woman who is colluding with the very men who murdered my people. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You've never cared about mages. How many died because you abandoned them at Redcliffe?"

Another accusation Fenris had heard before. It was starting to get old.

The Inquisitor seemed to agree as she groaned and said, "None. They died because they gave themselves over to the service of the Venatori, and then they followed the Venatori into battle against Haven. That was their own poor decision, not mine."

The Enchanter, clearly losing her head, bit back, "Interesting how you knew that going into the battle and yet you didn't attempt to spare any of them. Did you even consider some of them might have been there against their will?"

It was clear at this point that the meeting was no longer about whether or not the Templars were guilty, and was now entirely about the Enchanter airing her grievances. As annoying as it was, it gave Leliana the time she needed to gather her evidence, and the Inquisitor was still in control, so Fenris was not worried.

The Inquisitor sighed, "Forgive me, Enchanter, if I was more concerned with keeping my people safe than saving the lives of those trying to kill them."

The Enchanter lost the last remnants of her mask when she cruelly said, "Yes, and that went _so_ well, didn't it? From what I recall, they are still pulling the bodies out of the rubble."

For the first time since the encounter started, Fenris saw the resolve on the Inquisitor's face wane, and it made his chest sting. The Enchanter was poking at the Inquisitor's only real weakness, her guilt. He knew better than anyone how much she suffered when her people died, and he had to hold himself back from shouting the Enchanter into silence.

But the spiteful woman was not finished, "In fact, how well have you protected these "people" you claim to care for so much?"

The Chancellor, seemingly seeing that his friend had lost her nerve, placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "That's enough, Lilian. We're here about the Templars, not to attack the Inquisitor."

The man's words were too little too late, however, as the Enchanter didn't seem ready to stop. Her irrational anger drove her on as she said, "Yes. You care for your people so much that you were willing to choose their safety over the lives of your fellow mages. And yet you let one of your scouts die to an ice rune for you rather than "protect" her. Admit it, Inquisitor. Your only "people" are your precious Templars. And you'll protect _them_  at any cost."

Fenris watched the pained expression fall over the Inquisitor's face, and he saw the misty glaze that formed over her eyes as the Enchanter's vicious words echoed through the room. He had no idea how the damned mage knew about Jenna, nor did he care. Only one thing mattered at that moment: the Inquisitor. No one else in that room knew how deeply Jenna's death had destroyed her, but he knew, and his only thought now was to protect her from any further attacks by the Enchanter. He had seen the Inquisitor's tears once, and he decided he would snap the Enchanter's neck before he let her drive the Inquisitor to that point again.

So he put himself directly between the woman and the Inquisitor, shooting a hateful glare at the Enchanter when he said, "That's quite enough, Mage."

The lyrium in his skin came alight, and he saw the woman flinch and take a step back before she looked past him and exclaimed, "Call off your dog, Inquisitor! This is between you and me!"

He didn't give a second thought to the woman calling him a dog and snapped at her, "Not anymore. The moment you resorted to senseless cruelty, you lost the courtesy of my silence."

The Chancellor simply stood by, pinching the bridge of his nose and keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He'd evidently given up, but the Enchanter still had fight left in her and said, "You know nothing, elf!"

He'd had more than enough of the woman, and shot back, "No. It's you who knows nothing, Enchanter. You have no right to judge the Inquisitor for things you don't understand when it was your damned rebellion that caused half of the chaos _she_  is trying to reign in, on her own I might add. It's not as if your pet Chancellor and his Chantry have been doing anything to restore order. She's trying to protect _everyone,_ even you and your ridiculous mage rebellion, and all you can do is shame her for the people she's lost. And for what? Your own spiteful and selfish need for retribution?"

The mage was clearly dumbfounded as her mouth simply hung agape and her eyes started widely into his. Good. She needed to be knocked down a few notches. Her behavior was beyond unacceptable. So to put the final nail in her coffin, he said, "If you think you can do better, perhaps _you_  should try carrying the fate of every person in the world on _your_ shoulders rather than show up here and attack the person who is currently doing it."

The room had gone virtually silent by this point. The only remaining sounds were the crackling of the fire by the entrance and the opening of a door nearby. He glanced over to see who'd come into the room, only to see Leliana leading what appeared to be an elven mage into the room and toward the Inquisitor. When they reached the stairs leading up to the throne, Leliana shoved the elf forward and said, "Tell the Inquisitor what you just told me."

The elf's eyes fell to the floor, and her voice shook as she said, "I am a member of a group of radical mages. We murdered the mages outside of Denerim and planted evidence at the crime scene to make it look like the Templars did it. We did it because our leader said we needed to get back at the Inquisition for what they did to the six mages who came here before. I agreed to testify in exchange for immunity."

It was in that moment that Fenris knew he was no longer needed. The Enchanter and the Chancellor were utterly and completely defeated. So he turned in time to see the Inquisitor rise from her throne like a queen and take the few steps it took to stand by his side.

She then stared intensely at the Enchanter when she said, "Well then, Enchanter, I believe you owe my Templars an apology for the actions of the radicals within your group. I expect such an apology to be handwritten, by you, and sent to Ser Barris and his men before the end of the day."

The Enchanter said nothing, so the Inquisitor moved on to the Chancellor and said, "As for you, Chancellor. For your part in colluding with the Enchanter, you will ensure that a large shipment of lyrium is delivered to Skyhold as reparations for my Templars. I believe you owe them that much."

At last, Fenris heard her allow a small sliver of anger into her voice when she said, "And once you've finished making the necessary preparations to ensure these things happen, get out of my keep and don't _ever_ come back."

The Enchanter and the Chancellor didn't even bother trying to argue. If he had to venture a guess, he'd say that they knew there was no point. They'd made absolute fools of themselves, and there was nothing they could say to change that.

Fenris was more interested in the fact that the Inquisitor did not demand that they apologize to her. She deserved an apology after the Enchanter's despicable behavior, and they deserved to be made to give her such an apology. But she was more concerned about making sure her Templars were taken care of, which only made the Enchanter's cruel words fall even flatter.

And now that the drama was over, he was free to check on the Inquisitor and make sure she was okay. He turned to speak to her, only to find her rushing through the door to her quarters.

*****

As she passed through the door to her quarters, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. It was over, finally over. She had proof that her Templars were innocent, and the politicians were leaving. She'd expected it to be a harrowing experience, but she __definitely__  hadn't expected the Enchanter to both _know_ about Jenna, and use her for one of her stupid attacks. She'd come dangerously close to losing her cool from that. She could have handled anything else the Enchanter had thrown at her, but not Jenna. Not yet. It was still too fresh, too raw. If Fenris hadn't stepped in and stood up for her, she wasn't sure what she would have done.

Fenris. She knew from his actions after they returned from the Temple that he cared. He wouldn't have bothered climbing up to her quarters to visit her if he didn't. But today he showed a protectiveness she didn't know he had. He didn't even hesitate to step between her and the Enchanter as soon as the woman took it too far. She was so used to being the protector. It came with the job. She wasn't accustomed to _being_  protected, and even though it was a strange feeling, it wasn't exactly an unwelcome one. In fact, it felt good to know that Fenris was looking out for her just like Jenna had. Only with Fenris, she _knew_  he was looking out for her, and she could repay him by doing the same.

But right now, there was something she needed to do. She could hear footsteps coming from behind her, and she knew who it was, but she paid it no mind for the moment and rushed into her bedroom. She tore one of the pillows off of her bed, sunk her teeth into it, and screamed as loud as she could. The sound was muffled, but it was still loud enough that she knew Fenris could hear it from the hallway leading to her room. Once the scream was out, she put the pillow back on the bed and moved out to the balcony. She leaned on the railing and inhaled as deeply as she could before releasing the breath heavily.

It didn't take long for Fenris to be at her side, leaning over the railing as well. She stared out over the mountainside and said, "Nothing I ever do is good enough for these people. I close the Breach, rescue the Templars from corruption, and stop Corypheus from summoning a bloody demon army, but all they can do is remind me how many times I've failed. I already know. I don't need to be reminded."

He turned his head to face her, and he answered, "No. You punish yourself more than enough. You don't need help. But you did well, Inquisitor. You kept it together in the face of her cruelty better than most would have."

She shook her head and said, "Tch. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there. As soon as she rubbed Jenna in my face, my head went blank. I probably would have wound up either crying or punching her in the face. I don't know which would have been worse."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Neither option happened, but if I'd suspected you were about to cry, I'd have punched the mage for you."

She acted on the gratitude she'd been feeling since he came to her rescue when she reached her right arm out to hook into his left one. Her left hand rested on his forearm and her temple leaned against his shoulder when she said, "Thank you."

He didn't move or say anything, but she knew as well as he did that no more words needed to be spoken. Even though this day had started out terrible, as she stood there with him, she had a feeling that she was going to be okay. He was there for her, and she was there for him, just like friend were meant to be. And as long as that was true, she decided tomorrow would no longer be as daunting as it had been before.

It didn't even occur to her that this was the _very_  thing she'd warned herself against that morning.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been several weeks since the confrontation with the Chancellor and Enchanter Lilian. Things had gone mostly back to normal at Skyhold, but there was one thing bugging Rhanon terribly. The Templars had been with her for some time now, and Barris was, currently, their appointed leader. _She_  hadn't chosen him to lead them, they had chosen him themselves. And yet, no one had breathed a word about having him named Knight Commander of the Templars. Of course, Barris wouldn't because he didn't have hubris enough to demand promotions like that, but she found it strange that no one else had put the idea forward.

Well, if no one else was going to, she certainly would. She was the bloody Inquisitor after all. If anyone could get Barris promoted, she could. So one morning, she went off to Josephine's office. The Antivan was sitting at her desk like usual, scratching down notes on one piece of paper or another.

When she heard Rhanon approach, she raised her head and said, "Inquisitor, what can I do for you?"

Rhanon placed her palms on the desk and answered, "I had an idea that I wanted to run by you."

Josephine placed her quill down and said, "And what's that?"

Rhanon glanced over her shoulder at the crackling fire nearby and said, "It's about Ser Barris. I'd like to promote him to Knight Commander. I believe he's more than proven himself worthy of it."

From the grin that spread across the ambassador's face, Rhanon knew she approved. She picked her quill back up and scratched down a few more notes before saying, "I agree, Inquisitor. I will make the arrangements immediately. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She wished Josephine wouldn't be so formal all the time, but she knew it was just the ambassador's way, so she didn't take it personally. There was, however, one more thing Rhanon wanted. Just promoting him didn't seem like enough. She'd only seen it once, but when her clan's current Keeper took over for the old, there was a celebration. Well, as much of a celebration as can be had in a Dalish camp, anyway, so it didn't seem right to simply promote Barris and move on.

She raised her palms from Josephine's desk and said, "Yes. I was thinking maybe we could hold an event of some kind to celebrate his promotion. Do you think that's a good idea or is that a little too much?"

Josephine smiled again. Evidently, Rhanon was saying all of the right things. Good. She needed things to go right.

Josephine wrote down a few more notes, "Not at all, Inquisitor. It is good that you show such interest in rewarding Barris for his actions. It will show your people that you appreciate their hard work, and it will also earn you more respect from the Templars. Not that their respect for you is lacking, especially after you defended them from those false allegations."

Josephine always could pick apart a situation and find every single benefit to it. Rhanon only _wished_ she had that level of observational skills. Still, if Josephine thought this was a good idea, then Rhanon could be safely assured that she'd made the right decision. So she turned to exit the room before saying, "All right, Josephine. I'll leave it to you. Hold whatever kind of event you think is most appropriate, and send word when the arrangements for the promotion have been made."

Josephine nodded. "Yes, my Lady."

With that, Rhanon walked away feeling much lighter than she had in a good long while. She had to make daunting, life or death decisions on a near-daily basis, and she was rarely certain if she'd made the right one. It felt good to be making a decision that was not only devoid of the "life or death" aspect, but was also one she could be absolutely sure about.

*****

It was midday when Fenris noticed that several people were funneling into the main hall. It normally happened when the Inquisitor was rendering judgment, but as far as he knew they hadn't brought in any prisoners recently. However, it wasn't until he saw Ser Barris, accompanied by half a dozen other Templars ascending the steps of the Keep that Fenris truly became interested in what was happening. He immediately followed after them and caught up to Barris, who saluted him and said, "Ser. I heard about how you stood up for the Inquisitor during the mess with Enchanter Lilian. It was good of you."

Barris was not the first to compliment him on his handling of that situation, and he was sure he would not be the last. He just didn't understand why everyone was so impressed by it. It seemed a natural thing to do given the circumstances. The only explanation he could think of was that his cold demeanor gave everyone the impression that he was uncaring so they were surprised to see he would do such a thing. Which was very likely. Not that he cared one way or another.

So he simply brushed off the compliment and asked, "What's going on, Ser Barris?"

Barris glanced around the main hall as they passed through it and answered, "No idea. The Inquisitor called me back here, and she said it was important."

And it must have been important because Fenris found the Inquisitor sitting in her throne waiting for Barris. Once they'd reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the throne, Fenris backed away and gave Barris the space he needed.

The Templar saluted and said, "Inquisitor, you asked to see me?"

The Inquisitor immediately stood from the throne and stepped forward, "Indeed, I did. Your actions over the past few years have not escaped my notice, Ser Barris. You have completed every mission I've sent you on with as few casualties as possible, even putting yourself in danger to prevent bloodshed. More than that, the Templars themselves have noticed your skill as well, and they have already made you their leader in all but name. So I figured it was high time that I give you the name. Ser Delrin Barris, I name you Knight Commander of the Inquisition's Templar Order."

This was the last thing Fenris had been expecting when he saw the people filing into the main hall, but now that it was happening, it made sense. The Inquisitor had mentioned how much she respected Barris and his dedication to the ideals of the Templar Order. And after how competently the young man had handled the false accusations laid against him, it was no surprise that the Inquisitor saw fit to promote him.

Barris, with a bewildered expression on his face, went down to one knee and said, "Your Worship, I am not worthy."

Just as Fenris had expected her to, the Inquisitor rolled her eyes and said, "Oh shut up, Barris. You most certainly are. After the mess at Kirkwall and after the chaos caused by the Mage Rebellion, the world needs to see a Templar rewarded for showing dedication to the true purpose of the Order. Plus, the Order needs a leader like you, a leader who will not, under any circumstances, allow the sorts of atrocities that pushed the mages to rebel in the first place."

It continued to amaze Fenris how she took no one's side in the battle between the Templars and the Mages. Most people were decidedly on one side or the other, but not the Inquisitor. She knew that both sides were to blame and, as such, held the Templars just as responsible as she would the mages if they were standing in front of her. He could only guess this ability to remain completely objective came from her background as a Dalish elf. She had not lived in a Circle and suffered abuses by the Templars, nor had she experienced the horrors that blood mages had committed in Kirkwall. As such, she didn't have either extreme influencing her opinion.

Barris rose to his feet and saluted again, "Yes, Your Worship. I will not let you down."

She smiled. "I know you won't. Now, don't go anywhere, Barris. Our lovely ambassador is currently putting together an event to celebrate your promotion, and I expect you to be there."

Barris' eyes widened. "Your Worship? I-I don't-"

She raised a hand to silence him. "Come on, Barris. Let me have this excuse to do something for someone that doesn't involve fighting demons or sealing rifts. I could use the distraction."

After a few seconds, Barris smiled back at her, nodded, and said, "Yes, Your Worship."

She then dismissed Barris and his Templars and the main hall slowly began to empty. And as she descended the stairs in front of the throne, Fenris saw something he rarely saw since Jenna's death: a genuine smile on the Inquisitor's lips. It wasn't one of the fake smiles she slapped on haphazardly in order to try to convince everyone she was okay. He'd long since learned to tell the difference. Strange that something so seemingly insignificant like promoting Ser Barris meant so much to her that it brought a real smile to her face.

She continued to smile as she walked past him and glanced in his direction. Their eyes met for only a second, but in that second he saw the light in them that had been gone for the past several weeks. It seemed she was finally picking herself back up, and things were going back to normal. And that was a more than welcome turn of events.

*****

The event to celebrate Barris' promotion turned out to be a banquet, and, of course, Josephine invited every single politically influential person she could possibly get word to. Which put Rhanon in the horribly awkward position of having to mingle. Despite the fact that she had gained the confidence to banish her social awkwardness years ago, she still wasn't comfortable in a room full of strangers, especially ones who she _knew_  had ulterior motives. Still, she put on a brave face and talked to as many people as she could, coached along by Josephine, of course.

It took at least half an hour before she talked to someone she actually _wanted_  to see. And that person, it turned out, was Ser Barris. She was right in the middle of a chat about Orlesian shoes with an overly-excitable young lady when she caught a glimpse of the Knight Commander, dressed in full armor, moving through the room looking _just_ as uncomfortable as she was.

She excused herself from the young lady and approached Ser Barris, saying, "Knight Commander! Glad you could join us! The ambassador really went all out didn't she!?"

Then she stepped closer and immediately started whispering, "I would not blame you if you wanted to run away screaming right now. This was _easily_  one of the worst ideas I've ever had."

Barris chuckled and glanced around the room a few times, "Yes, I do appear to be a bit out of my element."

She sighed. "You and me both."

Barris gave her a quizzical look. "Forgive me, Your Worship, but aren't you being overly modest? You talked circles around Enchanter Lilian and the Chancellor."

"Ha!" she said. "Debating a couple of idiots who have no idea what they're talking about is an easy task for anyone. I'm talking about the mingling, Barris. The horribly awkward practice of trying to come up with something to talk about with a person you have absolutely _nothing_  in common with."

She saw the daunted expression fall over Barris' face when he said, "Oh Sweet Maker, you're right. I'm going to have to do that, aren't I?"

She smirked. "Undoubtedly. This is _your_ party, after all. Everyone is going to want to speak with you, _Knight Commander_  Barris."

She could see him trying very hard to keep the dread from his face. He obviously didn't wish to seem ungrateful for the event by complaining. So she hoped to lighten his mood by lowering her voice again and saying, "But it's not all bad. There's a pretty noblewoman over in the corner who's _dying_  to meet you. She's second in line in her family too."

She then patted him on his shoulder and started to walk away, eager to find a drink. She stopped, however, when she heard him call out, "Your Worship."

She turned back to him, and his eyes momentarily hit the floor before he raised them again and said, "I wanted to thank you. I never expected a mage would show a templar such kindness, not after the rebellion."

As much as she hated that he felt that way, it was hardly surprising. With the malice still brewing between the mages and the templars, it was unlikely that very many mages would be showing him even a fraction of this kindness. She could only hope that naming a good man like him Knight Commander was the first step in bridging the divide between the two factions and convincing them to work together again.

She smiled at him and said, "Enjoy the party, Barris."

With that, he walked away, and it didn't take long for him to be approached by one of the three dozen nobles she'd just fought her way through. She started searching around the room for anything that looked like alcohol, only to be utterly shocked at the sight of Fenris standing by the fireplace with a drink in his hand. She had seen very few familiar faces since she'd arrived, so he was a welcome sight.

She pushed through the crowd and made her way over to him in time for him to turn to her and say, "Remind me _not_ to contact you if I need to host a party, Inquisitor."

She couldn't have been angry even if she'd wanted to. After listening to a bunch of nobles talk about their shoes and their assets all afternoon, she was glad to hear some playful banter.

Even so, she wasn't about to let him get away without a sarcastic response, so she shot back, "Well if you're so _bored_ then why are you here?"

He held out his other hand, which was holding a second drink, and he said, "Thought you might need one of these."

She breathed a sigh of relief and answered, "Fenris, I think I love you."

He grinned and rolled his eyes as she snatched the cup and took her first drink. She slid into a nearby chair and leaned back, letting her eyes scan the ceiling.

He moved to sit in another chair nearby and set his drink down before saying, "You did well naming him Knight Commander. Barris seems a good man."

She leaned forward again and took another drink, "I know. It's one of only two decisions I've made that I was one-hundred percent certain about."

He reached for his drink. "What was the other?"

She didn't know if it was the alcohol going to her head, or if she really had no control over her own tongue, but she blurted out, "Letting you join the Inquisition."

Her face immediately went red, and she downed the rest of her drink. What the hell was she doing saying such ridiculously sentimental things? Of course she wasn't lying. She hadn't had any _real_  doubts about him when he'd first joined, and she didn't now. Even during their fight, she'd never _truly_ thought about making him leave. She'd just been angry, like he was. But even so, why did she have to go and tell him that?

She hoped to deflect with humor and immediately said, "Wow. I never knew my own foot tasted so good. Needs some salt, though."

She braced herself for the vicious mocking he was about to give her. Creators know she deserved it after being so ridiculous. But she didn't hear anything. In fact, when she glanced in his direction, his normal half-smile was on his face, and she didn't see a hint of amusement or humor behind his eyes.

He turned his drink up and finished it off before saying, "Congratulations, Inquisitor. That's the closest anyone has ever come to making me blush."

She instantly erupted in laughter. It wasn't even that what he said was particularly funny, but that he'd noticed how embarrassed she was and his first instinct was to try to make her laugh. It was such a simple thing, that he couldn't possibly understand how much it meant to her.

So she wasn't going to let his joke go to waste and responded, "Well then I will _just_ have to try harder, won't I?"

When he looked at her, she could tell he was answering, but when his lips moved, she couldn't hear any words because a different sound had grabbed her attention. It was the light pinging sound of piano keys, but it was loud enough that she could hear it despite all of the chatter in the room. She could feel her face wilt at the start of the music. She stood from the chair and frantically turned her head several times, trying to find the source of the grating melody. Finally, she caught a glimpse of a piano sitting in the corner of the room with a young woman sitting in front of it.

At last, she heard Fenris' voice when he placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Inquisitor? What's wrong?"

The piano was still going, however, and every time the woman's fingers would hit a key, Rhanon felt it move through her body like a jolt of electricity. She turned away from the instrument and said, "When did a piano get there?"

He glanced in the piano's direction and answered, "They brought it in a few moments ago while we were talking. Why? What is this about?"

The young woman slamming down on the keys didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and the music was still cutting through Rhanon like tiny shards of glass. She couldn't stay there while it was playing. She needed to get far enough away that she couldn't hear it anymore. So without even giving Fenris an explanation, she took off out of the main hall, intent on reaching the tower. Surely it would be far enough.

*****

Shocked would be an understatement. When the Inquisitor immediately went from joking with him like normal to running from the room like a frightened child at the first sound of a piano playing, Fenris was beyond dumbfounded. He'd seen the change in her face as soon as the music started, the absolute horror that came over her. He'd known people to be afraid of strange things, but he'd never met a person who was afraid of hearing a piano being played.

As soon as she left the main hall, he knew where she was going, and he wasn't about to let her run away like that without at least telling him what happened. So he followed her, only just catching a glimpse of her before she rushed into the tower and closed the door. It didn't take him long to catch up, and when he pulled the tower door open, he found her already sitting in the rafters.   

He wasted no time in climbing up to sit with her, but, no sooner had he sat beside her, did she say, "Fenris, please don't ask."

Well, that was a first. She'd refused to answer the question about her scar, but this was the first time she'd ever actually _asked_  him not to inquire about something. However, the fact that she didn't want him to ask only made him want to know more.

So he had to ask, "Why?"

She hung her head. "You remember the scar? It's the same story. If I tell you about the piano, I have to tell you about the scar, and I have to tell you about what Imshael made me see. They're all the same story."

He'd forgotten about the figure Imshael had shown her. Although he _had_  been a bit preoccupied with a red templar trying to cut him in half. He had to wonder how those three things could possibly be connected, but it didn't seem as if that question would be answered any time soon as she was refusing to speak of it. Not that he was upset. He knew for certain that Varric had not written about what happened on Seheron in his book, so the Inquisitor did not know about that. And that wasn't something he was sure he would ever be able to tell her, so he understood having a secret and not wanting to tell it.

Therefore, he told her, "It's all right, Inquisitor. You're allowed to have secrets. Everyone does."

She shook her head and looked up to the sky. "No. You don't get it. This isn't just _any_  secret Fenris. My clan doesn't even know about it. No one at Skyhold knows except maybe Cole and he knows better than to say anything."

From the tone of her voice, it almost seemed like she was trying to _justify_ not telling him. Whether she was trying to justify it to herself or to him he wasn't sure, but there was no need for it, so he said, "You don't have to explain. It's not as if you owe me anything, Inquisitor."

She shook her head again. "That's not why I'm explaining."

She sighed and finally turned to look at him when she went on, "I know I teased you about Varric's book, but because of that thing I know way more about you than you know about me. So it's only fair that I answer any questions you might have about me."

He'd never really thought about it that way, but she was right. She did know far more about him than he wanted anyone knowing, but that wasn't her doing, it was Varric's, so he wasn't about to hold it against her. Why, then, was she holding it against herself?

She turned her face away again, and he could hear the discomfort in her voice when she said, "So I'm letting you know how big this secret is so you'll understand _why_  I'm not telling you about it. I'll tell you anything else you want to know, but not that. Not yet."

Not yet? He knew she'd come to trust him and she'd even started seeing him as a confidant, but this was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He wasn't exactly bothered by it, though. She'd been good to him, and she'd given him a second chance when most people wouldn't have. So if she needed him to be the _one_  friend in the world she told this secret to, that was what he would be.

For now, however, he had to assure her that he wasn't going to pry, so he said, "All right, Inquisitor, then tell me this: Did you mean what you said about your decision to allow me in the Inquisition?"

He saw her relax at the question. This was clearly a much easier thing for her to talk about despite how embarrassed it had made her earlier. She pulled her left leg up to her chest and said, "I did."

Well that just opened the door for even more questions, but he decided to settle for the one and asked, "How could you be so certain about me, especially after how terrible our first meeting was?"

A sarcastic grin spread across her lips. "Didn't we _just_ talk about how I read Varric's book?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be naive enough to base your judgment of someone's character off of what you read in a book, especially a book written by Varric. So what _did_  you base it on?"

She made a noise that sounded like a combination between a sigh and a groan and said, "You're gonna think I'm stupid, but if you really want to know..... Do you remember when I fell asleep in here the night we met? You could have left me here, but you chose to go out of your way to carry me to my bed. I guess I reasoned that if you were willing to do that, then you had to be a caring person. You wouldn't have done it otherwise. And if you cared, then you couldn't be a _bad_ person because bad people don't care about anything but themselves."

He stared back at her for a few seconds, completely baffled. He hadn't seen the action of carrying her back to her room as anything significant, but he couldn't argue with her logic. If he were still the cold and unfeeling person he had been before he met Hawke, he _definitely_  would have left the Inquisitor in the tower that night. As it was, the thought had never even crossed his mind.

He wasn't sure why she was so sure he'd think that explanation foolish, but he answered, "It's not stupid. It makes sense."

She looked at him like he had a Nug on his head when she said, "Damn you and your broody face. I can't tell if you're teasing me or not."

Broody. He was going to have to remember to punch Varric for making it completely impossible for him to live that word down. For now, though, he would settle for encouraging the Inquisitor, and he said, "I'm not. Had we met ten years ago, I'd have tried to kill you on sight, for no other reason than your magical blood. I _certainly_ wouldn't have been carrying you anywhere."

The thought that his past self would have done such a thing made him sick to his stomach. He still didn't trust most mages, and he wasn't sure he ever would, but he knew now how foolish he'd been to let their magic be their defining feature. He had Hawke to thank for that unexpected epiphany. But as soon as he finished speaking, he saw the Inquisitor tense up and hug her left leg tighter. He hadn't expected what he said to upset her, but he couldn't think of any other way to make her believe that he wasn't teasing her. She clearly believed him, but now he could feel the discomfort radiating off of her.

He wanted to know why, so he asked, "What's bothering you, Inquisitor?"

She leaned her temple on her knee and answered, "I just... don't want to think about that. Because if you had attacked me, I'd have had to kill you, and..."

She tensed up more, and he could see the bits of red coming over her cheeks. She shook her head for the third time and went on, "I don't want to think about it."

Wait... that was what was making her uncomfortable? He shouldn't have been surprised. She'd already more than proven that her people dying frightened her more than anything. It was both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness.

So he hoped to ease her fears when he said, "Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm _less_  of an impulsive fool than I used to be."

She didn't say anything, but he could feel the tension in the air start to ease, which let him know his attempt to console her had worked. They fell into silence after that, just as they'd done many times before. But she didn't seem to be in any hurry to get back to the party, despite the fact that the piano had stopped some time ago.

So he sat with her and relished these peaceful moments while he could, knowing that they would only become fewer and fewer the closer they came to defeating Corypheus.


	16. Chapter 16

The Inquisitor had been gone for several days on a mission with the bald elf, Solas. This was the first time she'd ever left Skyhold with less than a full party of people, and it was one of the very few times she'd left without asking Fenris to come along. He was unsure why she'd elected not to bring him, but it wasn't as if she was required to bring him everywhere.

When she finally _did_  return, she was alone. For a moment, his heart beat faster at the thought that, perhaps the bald elf had perished. Not because he cared about Solas one way or the other, but because he'd seen the state Jenna's death had put the Inquisitor in. He really didn't want to see what would happen if a member of her Inner Circle were to die. However, when she walked with her normal light steps and smiled at everyone she passed, he knew Solas was probably fine. She headed up the stairs and toward the tavern, and he was about to head down to greet her when something caught his eye.

There was a man on the battlements, dressed in what appeared to be an Inquisition scout uniform. He stood out from the others, however, in that his eyes were following the Inquisitor. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have given Fenris pause because the scouts were supposed to observe. They were the reason Skyhold wasn't attacked every other day. This scout, though, his movements were eerily familiar. After being hunted for over three years, Fenris had learned to pinpoint the actions of a predator scoping out its prey, and this supposed scout was showing all of the signs he'd learned to watch for.

So he walked along the battlements toward the man, making sure to move slowly so as not to draw attention to himself. As he drew closer, he watched the man reach into his green cloak. Fenris zeroed in on the man's hands and felt his heart thump faster when he drew a weapon Fenris had seen only once: a blowgun. Finally knowing the man's intentions, Fenris flared his lyrium and took off, full speed, toward the impostor.

He saw the blue of his lyrium reflect off the man's eyes for only a second before he knocked the blowgun from his hand. Faster than Fenris had expected him to, the man drew a dagger from his belt and swiped in the direction of his face. Fenris threw his head back to avoid the attack and zipped around behind the man. He gripped his arm and kicked him in the back of the knees at the same time, knocking him down onto his stomach. The would-be assassin didn't seem prepared to give up, however, and kept struggling. So Fenris further twisted the arm he was holding until the satisfying sound of the man's bone cracking echoed through the keep.

He cried out from the pain and finally ceased his squirming just in time for the Inquisitor to appear and say, "Fenris!? What's going on!?"

He motioned his head toward the blowgun and said, "I believe _that_ will tell you all you need to know."

She glanced at the weapon and then back to Fenris before saying, "An assassin...."

Fenris took the man by his other arm and yanked him to his feet. The assassin grunted but said nothing, so Fenris asked, "Your orders, Inquisitor?"

She waved for him to follow and said, "Bring him. We're going to see Leliana."

She then stepped toward the blowgun and picked it up before heading toward the entrance to the keep. The assassin didn't even attempt to struggle anymore, evidently having accepted that he'd lost. So Fenris led him through the keep and up to the rookery, where Leliana was sitting at her desk reading a letter. As soon as she heard them coming, she placed the letter down and her eyebrows ran together at the sight of the man in front of Fenris.

Leliana stood and approached the assassin, saying, "You are _not_  one of my agents. Who are you?"

The assassin did not answer, and the Inquisitor stepped forward, holding out the blowgun as she said, "Evidently, he was planning on using _this_ to kill me. Fenris stopped him."

Leliana took the blowgun and turned it over in her hands two times. Fenris saw the recognition come over her face before she said, "I have seen one of these before. They are a weapon sometimes used by members of the Antivan Crows."

Antivan Crows? Fenris remembered them well. A large group of them had attempted to murder Hawke after she refused to hand over that insufferably chatty elf Zevran Aranai. If this man truly was a Crow, it meant someone had to have hired him, which was hardly a surprise. The Inquisitor had many enemies who would pay any price to see her killed.

The Inquisitor then stepped in front of the assassin and said, "Well, if you are a Crow, then surely you know that your life is forfeit since you failed to kill your target."

The assassin scoffed and finally spoke up, "Cut to the chase, Inquisitor."

The man's thick Antivan accent confirmed what they already knew was true, and the Inquisitor crossed her arms as she said, "All right. Tell us who hired you and not only will I let you live, but you can join the Inquisition. We won't murder you if you fail like the Crows will."

Fenris' eyes widened and he poked his head out from behind the assassin. "You can't be serious, Inquisitor! He tried to kill you!"

She gave him a very stern look and answered, "Yes, Fenris, I know that. He's an _assassin_. That's his job."

She then turned to the assassin and went on, "But now that he's failed, he's in a position where he doesn't have a whole lot of options, so I'm not going to throw away a potential asset."

The assassin smirked at her. "Wise woman."

If he didn't have so much respect for the Inquisitor, he'd have broken the man's neck right then and there. This was another of her decisions that he just couldn't understand. How could she willingly put herself in danger by allowing this assassin to join her organization? He didn't know, but if she was bent on doing this, he decided he was just going to have to keep an eye on the assassin.

The assassin hadn't responded yet, so the Inquisitor eyed him intently and said, "Well?"

He sighed heavily and answered, "Very well, Inquisitor. My employer was one Grand Cleric Victoire. She was very adamant about getting retribution for what happened to her cousin. There is, however, no paper trail, so you will not be able to prove it."

The resolve that had painted the Inquisitor's face during this entire altercation faded instantly, and he saw a very familiar expression replace it: guilt. She had mentioned a "list" of people she had "failed," so Fenris could only assume this _cousin_  was one of the people on that list.

She glanced in his direction and said, "Fenris, take him to the infirmary to get his arm fixed. And Leliana, you know what needs to be done."

Leliana nodded. "Of course, Inquisitor."

Then the Inquisitor was gone before Fenris could say another word to her. He fully intended to obey the Inquisitor, but his feet wouldn't move. Her face had wilted so quickly, and what did she mean by "You know what needs to be done."?

He turned to Leliana and asked, "What is this about, Spymaster?"

Leliana glanced toward the stairs the Inquisitor had fled down and said, "Nothing to worry about, Fenris. The Inquisitor just has a good heart and doesn't like to be reminded about the, shall we say, _less than moral_ things she allows to happen."

Less than moral? What did that mean? He wanted to ask Leliana to elaborate, but he had a feeling she wasn't going to. So he did as he was told and led the assassin to the infirmary, ignoring him every time he spoke. Once he was safely in the doctors' hands, Fenris decided he would track the Inquisitor down and inquire into this situation. The Inquisitor allowed smugglers, assassins, and mercenaries into her organization, none of which were particularly "moral" professions. So what could she possibly be allowing that would make her feel guilty enough to take off like that?

He looked in the tower first but didn't find her there, so he checked the tavern and her quarters before he finally realized he was going to have to ask someone.

He stopped one of the cloaked scouts he passed and said, "Scout, have you seen the Inquisitor?"

The wide-eyed human pointed him in the direction of the guest wing and said, "I believe she is visiting Lord Firmin."

He didn't even know there was a Lord staying at Skyhold. Not that it mattered. He knew where she was now, so he waved the scout away and headed for the guest wing. He passed down the hallway that connected the wing to the rest of the keep and found one of the doors open. He approached and looked inside to find the Inquisitor sitting on the floor with a boy who couldn't be any older than eleven. There was a chessboard between them and by the looks of the pieces, she was either teaching him or letting him win.

She was simultaneously telling the boy a story as well, one he'd heard Merrill tell to Hawke's dog once. It was the Dalish tale about Fen'Harel tricking the gods and trapping them inside their own worlds. The boy sat at attention, seemingly engulfed in the story. Fenris had never thought the Dalish stories very entertaining, but he supposed they were okay stories for children.

When she finished the story, she glanced up and noticed him standing by the door. The guilt from earlier appeared on her face again, and she quickly covered it with one of the fakest smiles he'd ever seen.

She reached a hand out and tousled the boy's hair before saying, "You're doing much better, My Lord. But you still have a terrible habit of moving your Queen too soon. She _is_ the most powerful, but, if you lose her, you are at a great disadvantage in the long run."

The little boy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Next time can you tell me the story about the Eluvian?"

She raised an eyebrow, "I've told you that one already."

He moved one of his chess pieces and said, "I know, but it's my favorite.

She moved one of her pieces in response before standing and saying, "All right, My Lord. Next time. Be good, you hear?"

The lad smiled brightly, "I know, I know. Bye, Rhanon."

She patted his head one more time and, once she was out of sight, the fake smile dropped from her face and she moved past Fenris. He followed her and was about to ask her what was going on when she raised her hand and said, "Not yet. Not here."

She motioned for him to follow led him back into the main hall and eventually through the door to her quarters. At that moment, he felt foolish for all of the times he'd climbed the balcony to avoid the "rumor mill" since, evidently, she did not care what people thought.

When they finally reached her room, she took her usual spot on the couch and he knew she wanted him to sit as well. Once he was sitting, she pulled her knees to her chest and said, "Go on."

He was still baffled by her reactions, but he hoped to learn the reason for them when he asked, "Who is the boy?"

She visibly flinched at the question and squeezed her legs tightly. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to storm off at least until you let me explain."

Storm off? Why would he storm off? Was the truth about this boy really so disturbing that she thought it would drive him away?

It wasn't likely, but he still told her, "You have my word."

She inhaled and exhaled heavily before saying, "He's Lord Firmin, Grand Cleric Victoire's cousin."

_She was very adamant about getting retribution for what happened to her cousin._

In those seconds, he understood why she'd made him promise not to leave because his chest was burning with an anger he hadn't felt in quite some time. He knew what it was like to be held against your will, and the thought that the Inquisitor was allowing it to happen to a _child_ made him sick to his stomach.

She seemed to expect a negative reaction as she averted her eyes and said, "Say what you're going to say, Fenris."

He was ready to tear into her, to call her a hypocrite for allowing something like this to go on under her roof. However, the look on her face, her posture, and the reactions she'd been having to this whole situation made it blatantly obvious that, while she __was__  allowing this to happen, she didn't like it. In fact, she felt _terrible_  about it.

That fact, in and of itself, was enough for him to calm down and simply ask, "Why?"

The tension in her body lessened a bit, and he heard her breath a sigh of relief. She had, evidently, been expecting a much more intense reaction. She kept her eyes trained on the fire as she began, "Grand Cleric Victoire is an opportunist. As soon as the Conclave was destroyed, her first thought was to use the chaos of the mage-templar war and the breach to try to weasel her way onto the Sunburst Throne. And, as you can imagine, that put her at odds with the Inquisition because the more influence we get, the more sway we have over who will be elected Divine. Essentially we are in Victoire's way."

She paused and he saw her fists clench before she went on, "Victoire started doing everything she could to try to destroy the Inquisition, whether it was sending mercenaries and assassins to kill my people or planting damning rumors in all the right places. Leliana tried dealing with her like she's dealt with every other threat, but Victoire is slippery, and she's powerful. My people were dying left and right from her assaults and she was blocking the Inquisition from getting resources it needed to fight Corypheus."

Her voice cracked and shuddered when she said, "So I was left with a choice. Do I keep letting this woman have her way and hope we can eventually find a way to stop her, or do I get leverage to blackmail her into inaction? Option one would result in more people dying whereas option two would result in _no one_ dying, not even Victoire. So....."

She winced and exhaled again before finally saying, "I ordered Leliana to take the boy in his sleep. I forbade anyone from hurting him, and when he awoke I had prepared several "letters from his cousin" in which she told him that she'd sent him here for safekeeping due to the mage-templar war. He receives "letters" from her regularly so that he won't know what's _really_  going on. He doesn't even know I'm the Inquisitor. But Leliana made Victoire _believe_ that we would kill him if she didn't call off her assaults."

Her whole body tensed again at the words that came from her own mouth. But she wasn't done, and said, "Now no one is dying, and the Inquisition is being left alone."

He was glad, now, that he did not allow his emotions to get the better of him again. The phrase "choosing the lesser of two evils" applied here, and she had, indeed, chosen the lesser. No matter how he looked at it, there didn't seem to be any other choice she could have made that would've ensured everyone lived. And as long as the boy wasn't being mistreated or traumatized, then it was an acceptable compromise, regardless of how guilty the Inquisitor might feel about it.

She finally tore her eyes from the fire and looked at him when she said, "So, planning on leaving now that you know that dirty little secret?"

He scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Anyone who thinks that a leader can keep order in this kind of chaos without occasionally getting their hands dirty is an idiot."

She shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. That's what I tell myself at night, but it doesn't help me sleep any better because I'm not actually the one getting my hands dirty. Leliana is. Whenever we reach a point that something ruthless  _has_ to be done, _she_ does it. _That_ is my real sin."

He raised an eyebrow, "Why would you think that is a sin? The Spymaster doesn't seem to mind."

She squeezed her legs tighter. "Leliana is good at heart, but her entire life, one person after another has used her willingness to be ruthless to keep their own hands clean. First, it was her mentor Marjolaine, then the Hero of Ferelden, and then Divine Justinia. Now she doesn't think she's good for anything else. And I....."

She choked on her words, and he saw the mist glazing over her eyes. She was trying _very_ hard not to cry. Once she gathered herself, she finally said, "I could have been the one person who didn't do that. I could have broken the cycle, but I didn't because I knew if she wasn't here to make the ruthless decisions that I wouldn't be able to do it myself. I'm not strong enough."

Once again, Fenris wasn't sure what the real issue was here. The Spymaster seemed happy enough being the one who made these decisions the Inquisitor was talking about. And even if she didn't like it, she could always say no. The Inquisitor would never force someone she loved to do something they truly didn't want to do. Like she always did, the Inquisitor was placing far too much responsibility, and blame, on herself. He really wished he could somehow convince her to stop doing that.

Her fists were still clenched, so he reached across the sofa and took one of her hands. He gently uncurled her fingers and gripped her hand tightly. She looked back at him as he said, "You really _do_  believe you're supposed to carry _everything_  on your shoulders, don't you?"

She didn't answer and simply looked back at him with a stunned expression. His eyes narrowed and he went on, "Your assumption that you are "using" the Spymaster presupposes that she is the kind of woman to _allow_  herself to be used. Do you truly believe she is that kind of woman?"

He could see the cogs in her head turning, and her eyes fell to the sofa before she looked back at him and said, "No. I suppose not."

He squeezed her hand tighter for only a second and said, "Then isn't it more likely that the Spymaster is making the ruthless decisions because she _knows_  you have more than enough on your plate already and she's trying to spare you the extra burden?"

For the first time since the assassin had told her about Victoire, Fenris saw the spark return to her eyes. She'd clearly never been able to see past her self-deprecation long enough to look at things in that way. Her lips slowly curled into a smile and he felt her hand finally grip his in return. Their eyes met, and another of the silences fell between them. Only this time, it was far less strange because he _knew_  what she was trying to say even if she didn't say it.

This was probably the first time in her entire life that anyone had told her to lay down a burden and she'd _actually_  listened.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teldirthalelan: Basically "moron."

When Rhanon was first informed that they finally had enough influence in Orlaise to get into the Winter Palace, she was ecstatic. At last, her chance to put a stop to Corypheus' plans to murder the Empress. They made the trek out to Halamshiral, and Rhanon decided it was going to be a good day... until Josephine and Leliana shoved her into a dressing room and held up a dress that was only half as ridiculous as the ones she'd seen on the woman in Hightown all those years ago.

She said half because, unlike the ones she'd seen on those noblewomen, the dress the Spymaster was holding looked like one you could actually _move_  in. There as no corset and no restraining wires to hold the dress up. If she wore it, it would simply hang, and there was a long slit running from the bottom of the dress all the way up to where her thigh would be to keep her legs from being confined by the cloth. Would it even be appropriate for her legs to show like that? From the look of the low neckline, they were definitely planning to make her walk around with her chest exposed the entire night, so she guessed legs wouldn't be that big of a problem. And, since Josephine clearly had something to do with the creation of the dress, the green cloth that the dress was composed of was decorated with black silk and frills that made Rhanon's stomach turn.

She tried to refuse, even threatening to burn the dress to a crisp if they brought it near her. But between Josephine's scolding and Leliana's threats to go digging for her secrets, she relented, and now she was standing in front of a full-size mirror, not even recognizing herself. She was about to celebrate the fact that, at least, they'd let her keep her hair tied up when, without missing a beat, Josephine yanked the hairpin from her hair.

A tingle went up her spine and she exclaimed, "Josephine!"

Josephine placed her hands on her hips and said, "Really, Inquisitor, must you make such a fuss?"

"Yes!" Rhanon answered. "I look ridiculous enough without you taking my hair down, too!"

They weren't finished, evidently, as Leliana shoved her down into a chair and started doing Mythal-knows-what with her hair. Naturally, Rhanon struggled right before Leliana said, "Please, Inquisitor, stop your squirming. This is strategy."

Rhanon scoffed and pointed at the dress. "How is _this_  strategy, Leliana?"

The Spymaster continued her assault of Rhanon's hair and said, "Think about it. If you wear something like this, you will blend into the crowd better. Imagine if you trudged through there in your muddy boots and your leather coat. You'd stand out like a nug in a room full of cats."

Rhanon opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but paused and said, "That's… actually a good point."

Leliana smirked. "Of course. Now sit still."

  Once Leliana was finished, Rhanon looked at herself in the mirror and a long-forgotten spark re-ignited in her. Before Hawke, she'd always spent at least a few moments every morning on her hair because she really did love it. Afterward, though, she'd gotten into the habit of simply tying it up in a bun because she lost the motivation to do anything else. But, seeing the longer parts of her hair tied back in a ponytail while the shorter parts hung free reminded her why she'd always taken those few moments in the morning.

Ready to get the night over with, she stood and left the dressing room to find Fenris, Cole, and Cassandra were already there waiting for her. As soon as she saw Cassandra, she stopped and looked her up and down. _She_ wasn't wearing a dress. In fact, she was dressed in what looked like a much more comfortable red over shirt and brown trousers, the __exact__ same outfit Fenris and Cole were wearing. Rhanon immediately turned back to yell at Leliana and Josephine, but found them both sprinting away giggling

She grumbled and crossed her arms as she put on her best fake Orlesian accent and said, " _This is strategy, Inquisitor_." How in Mythal's name did I fall for that?"

She turned to her people and was about to tell them to move out when she found Fenris was staring, mouth agape, right at her. But what bothered her about it was how she _wasn't_ bothered. In fact, her heart was pounding and she could feel her cheeks flushing, which told her one thing: she liked it. Why did she _like_ it? She didn't know, but it was making her more uncomfortable than she already was so she turned and headed toward the exit of the building while saying, "Close your mouth before you start drooling, Fenris."

She heard Cassandra release a quick chuckle before silencing herself. She knew Fenris was probably glaring at the back of her head, and she might have spared a moment to feel bad if it wasn't so funny. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all.

*****

The first thing Fenris noticed about the Winter Palace was how everyone was wearing a mask. It seemed the stereotype about Orlesians always wearing masks was very much based on reality. The second thing he noticed was how fake everything was. The laughs were fake. The smiles were fake. The politeness was fake. These people even seemed to fabricate slights against themselves as an excuse to use their influence to harm someone else. He hadn't been too worried when they first arrived, but once he discovered the toxic atmosphere of the place, he started keeping a much closer eye on the Inquisitor. 

He watched her as she walked across the dance floor on her way to speak to the ridiculously-posed empress. Honestly, were the monarch's arms glued into that asinine, wing-like position? The announcer began reading off the names of everyone who accompanied the Inquisitor, and once he got past Cassandra's eighteen names, he moved on to Fenris. Fenris saw the Inquisitor's whole body tense up and her fists clench when the long-winded man introduced him as her "elven servant." And, if Fenris didn't care so little about what these moronic people thought of him, he might have been offended. He had a feeling that the Inquisitor was going to be offended enough for the both of them, anyway.

Once she finished the inane pleasantries with the Celene, the Inquisitor went, with Leliana, out of the ballroom. Fenris followed but kept a distance in order to keep the population from realizing he was essentially "guarding" the Inquisitor. She noticed him, however, and glanced in his direction. He moved a further distance away and nodded, letting her know he was there but making it clear that he was not going to interfere if she didn't want him to.

She finished talking to the Spymaster and approached him before jokingly asking, "Are you stalking me, Fenris?

He scoffed. "Hardly. These Orlesians cannot be trusted, and since no one else seems to want to keep an eye on you, I will."

She grinned and shook her head. "Well, you're gonna have to abandon that for at least a few minutes because I need a favor."

He raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you think I can do in a place like this?"

She moved closer to him and lowered her voice as she said, "Evidently, Ambassador Briala is up to something. Shocking, I know. But the only people who might know what's going on are the elven servants because they work for her. See if you can get them to tell you anything important, anything at all. I need to search the guest wing and the library."

He didn't bother asking what was so important about the guest wing or the library as it was probably irrelevant, but he did ask, "Why me? I'm not exactly a diplomat."

She sighed. "Believe me, I'm aware, but the thing about elves is they will usually only talk to other elves. Plus, if nothing else, you can charm them with your good looks."

She winked, and he covered his eyes with his hand. She clearly wasn't taking the danger of this place as seriously as he was, but he was used to this carefree attitude of hers by now. So he simply nodded and said, "Very well. Where would you like me to meet you?"

She threw her thumb over her shoulder and pointed at the ballroom. "If I'm not back in half an hour, feel free to start knocking heads."

She started to walk away, and he was compelled to reach for her and catch her wrist. She looked back at him and he said, "Be careful, Inquisitor. This place is more dangerous than it seems."

She smiled at him and gently pulled her wrist away. "I know, Fenris. Don't worry."

She disappeared into the crowd after that, and he had to fight the impulse to follow her despite her orders. He'd been on the battlefield with her many times over, but he'd never been as nervous as he was right now. When surrounded by demons, corpses, or any other manner of monster, he was not terribly limited in what he was allowed to do to keep the Inquisitor safe. But here, in this sea of lace and masks, all he could do was watch her go into danger and hope that she would be okay. It was not a feeling he was enjoying, so he headed off to find some of the elven servants in hopes of getting the Inquisitor the information she needed and, thus, getting her out of here faster.

He found a couple of serving girls standing near the stairs leading to the royal wing and decided that was a good enough place to start. On his way there, though, reality set in. What in Andraste's name was he supposed to say to them? He couldn't come out and _say_  that he was looking for information on Briala. They wouldn't tell him a thing if he did that. Suddenly, the night just became even more daunting as he was trying to figure out how to talk to these servants without making them suspicious of his motives.

When he reached them, the blonde one crossed her arms and sneered, "We're not serving drinks. Bother someone else."

The brunette glanced at him, though, and said, "Wait, Nissa, this is the Inquisitor's servant."

Nissa huffed. "I can't believe she'd drag you out here and announce you as her servant to the entire Winter Palace. Takes all sorts, I suppose."

The brunette continued to look at him, but she was making the same expression the Inquisitor had made that morning she saw him without his shirt. And, had it been the Inquisitor looking at him, he might have been flattered, but he ignored the brunette and, instead, turned to Nissa when he said, "She did not order that man to announce me in that way. He did it on his own because I told him I didn't care what he said about me. Be offend on my behalf if you wish, but do not assume things about the Inquisitor. You don't know her."

Nissa raised an eyebrow and dropped her arms to her sides, smirking as she said, "Well, well. I like you. You don't take shit from anyone, do you?"

A hard lesson learned, to be sure. However, he needed to get these women to talk. So far they had told him nothing of any import, and the minutes were ticking by quickly. He started scrambling to think of something to say, when Nissa broke the silence and said, "All right, handsome. What did your Lady send you over here to find out?"

For a moment, his heart beat faster. Had he been that obvious in his intentions? He hadn't said or done anything that, he thought, was suspicious. Nissa smirked again and said, "Relax. No one sends their servant to talk to the other team's servants unless they're trying to learn something. So what is it? What do you want to know?"

These elves were clearly better versed in The Game than he was, so it was obvious that they were going to see right through him no matter what he said. Hoping for some good luck, he said, "I don't expect you to flip on your own Lady, so I will simply ask you this. Has anything out of the ordinary happened tonight?"

Nissa took a step closer to him and continued to smirk when she said, "I'll answer that question if you tell me _one_ thing."

 _Fasta vas_! Even the servants were constantly looking for an angle. Was there a single person at this party that didn't expect to be bribed? Crossing his arms, he gave her a stern look and said, "What is it?"

She raised her hand and looked like she was about to touch his face, so he jerked his head back. Her smirk grew and she said, "My my, you're touchy aren't you? I just want to know if those markings on your chin and neck are....everywhere."

Her eyes moved up and down his body at the word "everywhere." The woman was obviously testing him, to see how far she could push before he lost his cool. Working in a place like this, full of backstabbers and corrupt politicians, it was probably one of the only ways she could get her kicks. He wasn't going to fall for it, however, and simply responded, "Yes. They are."

He didn't elaborate more. Not that he needed to. He was more than certain that the woman would let her imagination run away with itself no matter what he said. He saw the disappointment fall over her face, but she still said, "Well, you're pretty, but you're no fun at all. Very well. There have been several elves go into the servant's quarters tonight, and not a one has come back out. Might that be of interest to your Lady?"

The servant's quarters? Had they not been in such a cesspool of a palace, he might have simply assumed that the elves were busy with their duties. But he could _smell_ the blood in the walls of this place, so he knew something was happening in the servant's quarters that no one was supposed to know about. He bid the women farewell and headed to the ballroom. When he opened the door, his hair stood on end when he saw the Inquisitor talking to a very suspicious-looking woman with black hair and yellow eyes. She wore a dress composed of black and maroon silk with a leather corset that was tied so tight he wondered how in the world she was even able to breathe much less walk around.

The mysterious woman passed something to the Inquisitor before heading toward Empress Celene. As she walked away, he couldn't shake a feeling of deja vu. He knew, for a fact, he'd never seen the woman in his life, but something about her seemed familiar.

"I know she's pretty, Fenris, but could you stare any harder?"

Fenris turned his head and was taken aback when he found the Inquisitor standing only a few feet from him. He immediately said, "No, I wasn't..... *sigh* Never mind. Who was she?"

She shrugged. "No idea. According to Leliana, she's Celene's pet apostate, but from talking to her, it certainly seems like _she's_ the one using Celene, not the other way around. She calls herself Morrigan. I know that name from somewhere. I know I do."

He did as well. As soon as he heard the name, it sounded familiar. Where had he heard it? He wanted to know, but it was unlikely he was going to find out anytime soon, so he put it to the side for now and asked, "What did she give you?"

The Inquisitor opened her palm and a small key was sitting in it. "I have no idea what it goes to, though. She said she pulled it off of a Venatori she killed right here in the palace."

A key? He knew it was a long shot, but he said, "I just finished talking to a couple of serving girls. One of them told me that there have been several elves go into the servant's quarters tonight, and none of them have come out again."

She glanced down at the key in her hand. "So this might open the servant's quarters. Well, it's as good a lead as any. I'll go find Cole, you grab Cassandra and meet us at the door. One of Leliana's agents will have our weapons waiting for us."

He nodded and she took off again. Assassins, coups, and now Venatori agents. Perhaps this night would not be as boring as he originally thought.

*****

The key Morrigan gave her fit into the lock perfectly, and Rhanon opened the door to the servant's quarters as two of Leliana's agents, dressed as chevaliers, appeared, carting their weapons. The agents followed them into the servant's quarters and Cole closed the door behind them. Once everyone had their weapons ready, Rhanon led them all through the first door she saw.

The smell was the first thing to hit her. The heavy, metallic odor of blood wafted through the hair and her eyes widened when she saw a pile of elf corpses lying right outside of the kitchen. Her stomach turned and she could feel anger start to build in her chest. She stepped closer to the pile and saw that every one of them either had their throats slit or had some other manner of "slicing" injury. Whoever did this was an assassin using dual blades, and she aimed to find them.

She took a peek into both the kitchen and the sleeping area, only to find more corpses. She snarled and said, "All of this is happening _right_  under their noses, but Briala, Gaspard, and Celene are too busy bickering to notice. __Teldirthalelan__."

She shook her head and ordered her people to carry on. They passed through the kitchen and eventually made their way out to a garden with a large fountain fixed right in the center. All around the fountain were more corpses, but one of them stood out from the rest. He was human for one, and he was dressed in noble attire for two, and third, he was not killed the same way the others were. Sticking out of his back was an overly-fancy dagger.

Rhanon knelt over the man and said, "Well, hello. What were you doing here? And why is there a dagger with Gaspard's family crest sticking out of your back?"

She heard Fenris take a step closer as he said, "It seems the Grand Duke is not as innocent as he lets on."

She scoffed. "None of them are innocent. Come on, we should-"

A blood-curdling scream drew the attention of everyone present, and they all turned in time to see one of the elven servants running toward them. Rhanon met the poor girl's eyes for only a moment before an assassin, dressed as a harlequin, ran a dagger down the elf's back, knocking her to the ground. Rhanon reached for her staff immediately, but the harlequin disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving in its wake half a dozen Venatori warriors.

"Venatori!" Rhanon shouted as she threw a barrier up over her teammates.

Between Fenris' lyrium, Cole's daggers, and Rhanon's magic, the warriors were felled quickly, but Rhanon was far more concerned for the elven servant. She prepared to cast a healing spell and knelt down over the girl, only to find that she'd bled out during the battle with the Venatori.

Rhanon's fists clenched and she snarled before saying, "Come on! We're finding that damned harlequin."

Disgust. That's all she could feel as she and her team fought their way through more Venatori and came across at least a dozen more dead elves. How long had this been happening, and how long had Briala, Gaspard, and Celene been either ignoring it or ignorant of it? If her servants at Skyhold suddenly started dropping dead left and right, you could bet your arse that she would know about it and have it stopped immediately. But the three people vying for the throne obviously didn't care enough about their people to do the same, which made her just as sick as the pile of corpses.

They made their way through the royal apartments and up to the second floor when the familiar sound of a smoke bomb exploding grabbed Rhanon's attention. Down a narrow hallway connected to a balcony was a small group of Venatori. Rhanon's eyebrows ran together in a vicious scowl at the sight of the harlequin. The woman giggled and threw another smoke bomb, disappearing into it as the warriors with her moved in.

But Rhanon wasn't going to fall for that twice. After she raised a barrier over Fenris, Cole, and Cassandra, she started preparing an ice spell. Ordinarily, she would have concentrated the ice into thick, powerful icicles to impale any enemy in her path, but this time, she focused on creating a more wide-spread spell, almost like a blizzard. When she had enough power, she threw her hand to the ground and released a wave of snow and ice that fanned out in a perfect circle. The warriors' feet were caught in the ice, and the harlequin was knocked out of stealth right before she was able to land a blow on Cassandra's back.

With the masked woman revealed, Rhanon conjured a rock from the fade and hurled it in her direction. On impact with her stomach, it knocked the harlequin to the ground and she spit blood onto the marble. The rest of her team had since dealt with the warriors, but the battle, evidently, wasn't over as Rhannon heard footsteps coming from behind her. She turned and readied her staff, only to come face to face with one of the three people she wanted to see the least: Ambassador Briala.

The elf, wearing a mask that covered only half of her face walked past Rhanon and toward the balcony saying, "Fancy meeting you here. Inquisitor Lavellan, slumming it in the dirt with your people, for once."

She was in no mood for the ambassador's games and snapped, "Don't talk like you know me."

Briala did not seem bothered by Rhanon's snippy reply, however, and said, "Fair enough. I do not know you, after all. We have never been properly introduced. I am Ambassador Briala."

The ambassador finally stepped out onto the balcony, and Rhanon followed her, wanting to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible. Briala turned back to Rhanon and crossed her arms before saying, "So the dead emissary in the courtyard, that's not your doing is it?"

Losing patience, Rhanon said, "No. Now, if you don't mind, I have about a hundred things to do, so if we could cut to the chase, that would be great."

Briala scoffed. "All business, then. Very well, Inquisitor. Grand Duke Gaspard has been smuggling Chevaliers into the palace, little by little, the entire night. Surely that hasn't escaped your notice."

Rhanon hated when people asked questions they already knew the answers to, especially people who had already royally pissed her off. So she made her voice as stern as possible when she said, "I'm only going to say this one more time. Cut to the chase."

Finally, Rhanon saw a twinge of annoyance come over the ambassador's masked face, and she said, "Have I done something to offend you, Inquisitor?"

The dozens of dead elves on the way through the servant's quarters were more than enough "offense" to last her for the rest of her life. But she didn't have time to bite the ambassador's head off, so she simply said, "You don't want me to answer that question, ambassador. I know you're about to make me an offer, so just get it over with so I can get back to trying to clean up this mess."

She knew then that she'd soured any future pleasantries between herself and Briala. Not that she cared. The dead servants strewn about the palace were far more prevalent in Rhanon's mind than the opinion of one of the three people who were too stupid to notice all of this death happening.

Briala turned her back and started walking away when she said, "Support me in ruling Orlaise and you will have, at your disposal, an army of elven spies. Even if we aren't going to be friends, Inquisitor, you must admit that you won't find a better offer from Celene or Gaspard."

As the ambassador disappeared over the balcony, Rhanon had to resist the urge to grab the woman by her neck and punch her in the nose as hard as she could. The elven ambassador who was supposedly so concerned with the well-being of elves, wading through dozens of elven corpses, ignoring them, and focusing __solely__  on her ambitions to rule Orlaise. If she lived to be five hundred years old, Rhanon would never understand politicians who care so little about their own people, the people who trust them to have their best interest at heart.

She bit down the anger as best she could and said, "Come on. We need to get back to the ballroom before I'm missed."

She started to leave, but stopped when she heard Fenris say, "Inquisitor."

She glanced back at him, and she saw the concerned look in his eye when he asked, "Are you all right?"

She exhaled heavily and shook her head. "No."

No one else said anything to her, so she followed Briala down the balcony and headed back toward the ballroom, dreading the fact that, by the end of the night, she was going to have to choose _which_ of these three idiots was going to rule Orlaise.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nuva uralas telsyl na i’ga syl nyel laimem: "May nature strangle you with all of the air you've wasted."

Fenris followed the Inquisitor back to the ballroom and felt his skin crawl when the Empress' cousin, Grand Duchess Florianne, pulled the Inquisitor aside and began whispering to her. He trusted no one at this ball, but something about the Grand Duchess made him even more uneasy than even ambassador Briala had. He just barely heard Florianne ask the Inquisitor to dance with her, and his eyes followed the two women as they stepped out onto the dance floor.

He could see their lips moving, but he couldn't hear them, which had probably been Florianne's plan. He didn't know what sort of secret deals Florianne was trying to make with the Inquisitor, but the blatantly fake smile on the elf's face told Fenris that she was not amused. He also quickly found that he was not the only person watching the women so intently. Moving through the crowd, completely unseen by the nobles around them, were two of the harlequins they had just encountered in the servant's quarters. A little too convenient that they show up just as the Inquisitor goes out onto the dance floor with the Grand Duchess.

Wanting to be closer to the Inquisitor in case the assassins tried anything, he moved toward the stairs leading to the dance floor and stood to the side, prepared to shove the guard out of the way and charge in if he needed to. And it was there he stood until the dance ended and the Inquisitor noticed him. She ascended the stairs just as Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine appeared beside him.

Leliana was the first to speak up and said, "I had no idea you knew how to dance Inquisitor."

The Inquisitor shrugged. "I'm full of surprises. Anyway, what's going on, Fenris? You seem on edge, more so than usual."

He motioned his head toward the crowd on the other side of the room. "I saw two of those harlequins walking around while you were dancing with the Grand Duchess."

The Inquisitor sighed and covered her eyes with her hands, "Hardly surprising since the woman just sold out her own brother. Is there a single person at this ball who _isn't_ a backstabbing cunt?"

"Inquisitor!" Josephine exclaimed. "Honestly, you've done so well keeping up appearances so far! Don't ruin it with such language!"

The Inquisitor's hands went to her hips when she said, "Forgive me, Ambassador, if the sight of elven corpses strewn about the servants' quarters has left me with little patience. Now, Florianne told me that I can find Gaspard's mercenary captain in the gardens of the royal wing."

"That's a setup," Fenris said. "An obvious one."

The Inquisitor shrugged. "Or a lead. Either way, I'm checking it out. Leliana, get me access to the royal wing, and while I'm there I'll try to find some dirt on our three candidates. I need some leverage if I'm going to get these three to quit their bickering and start worrying about things that actually _matter_."

Fenris had never seen the Inquisitor like this, so utterly disgusted with everything that was going on around her. If this was her mood now, he almost felt sorry for Briala, Gaspard, and Celene when she _did_  find dirt on them.

He followed her into the royal wing and found there to be a surprising lack of corpses. If anything, he'd have expected the royal wing to have __more__  corpses than the servants' quarters. It turned out, however, that this part of the palace held its own surprises. They came across a young elf willing to testify that Briala had been sleeping with Celene when she burned Halamshiral's alienage. And, more surprisingly, they found a naked chevalier tied to Celene's bed, who informed them that Celene knew about the coup the whole time and simply allowed it to happen.

But what worried Fenris was the Inquisitor's reaction to the man's words. She simply cut him free and told him to get dressed. She didn't make any jokes, tease the man, or even laugh at his expense. Instead, her face turned beat red and her fists clenched so tight that the skin on her hands went white. Fenris had been where she was several times, so he knew what was happening. Since she'd first set foot in the servants' quarters, her anger had been building, and with every new revelation about the three people fighting over the throne, that anger only grew stronger. If they'd been back at Skyhold, she could have taken her anger out on the practice dummies, but here, in a place where showing any sort of emotion is akin to signing your own death warrant, she was being forced to bottle it up. He could only hope that she would be able to keep holding it in until the mission was complete.

Once the chevalier was gone, the Inquisitor ordered them to move out, and they followed her toward the gardens when a chillingly familiar sound echoed through the night air. The Inquisitor's anchor flared green, and she took off through a pair of double doors toward what they now knew was a Fade rift.

*****

"You painted Orlesian bastards!" came a voice Rhanon could only assume was the mercenary captain.

When she threw open the double-doors, she already knew she was dealing with a Fade rift. What she hadn't been expecting was the dozen Venatori also waiting for her. There were three archers standing behind the rift, two mages off to the sides, and the remainder were all warriors. No matter how she looked at it, this was going to be a tough fight, and it should have made her worried. Instead, a smile spread across her lips and her hands sparked with fire. At last, a _real_ battle.

A voice echoing through the garden caught her attention, and she raised her head to find Grand Duchess Florianne standing on the balcony above the gardens. The masked woman sunk into a hip when she said, "Inquisitor. Such an intelligent woman. I did not think you would fall for such an obvious trap."

Rhanon huffed. "Implying that I didn't _know_ you were up to something. But I will give you this, I didn't expect you to be stupid enough to work for Corypheus."

Florianne raised her hand dismissively. "Your words mean nothing. All I have to do is keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike."

She then glanced down at the archers and said, "Kill them, and bring me her marked hand as proof."

The archers aimed their bows, and Rhanon was fully expecting them to fire at _her_ , so she threw up a barrier only to find she'd been wrong about their target. Three arrows flew past her, and she heard a grunt. She spun around quickly and gasped at the sight of an arrow embedded right below Fenris' collarbone. That single action was the corkscrew that finally removed the cork holding back her anger. Just as she had when she battled against Imshael, she conjured fire from her wrists to her shoulders and sent a massive wall of flame barreling toward the archers. The men attempted to scurry away, but as soon as their tunics caught, they were finished.

She didn't realize until the battle started how badly she needed it. Since she walked out of the Fade at Haven, she'd seen many things that both disgusted and angered her. She'd seen the death and destruction left by the mage-templar war. She'd seen her own people cut down mercilessly by Corypheus' minions. She'd seen mages made into mindless slaves and templars corrupted by red lyrium to the point that they no longer looked human. In all those instances, however, people fought back, trying to either prevent the madness or stop it. But, in the Winter Palace, piles of corpses littered the ground, and no one cared. All of those servants, murdered by Florianne's minions, and Celene's neglect allowed it to happen, Briala stepped over their bodies like they weren't even there, and Gaspard was too busy smuggling chevaliers into the palace to notice.

And now, Rhanon was done holding back. She'd had enough of the backstabbing, the corruption, and the utter disregard for life that had seeped into the very walls of this place. So she tore through the Venatori and every demon that came out of the rift without mercy because she knew, if she didn't, that she would take her anger out on Celene, Gaspard, and Briala. And, as much as she might hate them, she needed them.

By the time she finally sealed the rift and the final Venatori was felled by Cole's daggers, there was scarcely a plant left in the garden that wasn't charred black by Rhanon's fire spells. Once the adrenaline started draining from her body and her mind registered that the battle was over, she finally noticed the heavy breaths she was taking. It had been quite some time since she'd let loose her magic so intensely that it made her winded.

Now that the danger had passed, however, she remembered what had thrown her into that blood rage in the first place, and she turned to find Fenris knelt down on one knee, with the broken-off arrow still lodged in his chest. She was at his side in an instant and said, "Fenris. Damn it all. Let me see."

He held up his hand and said, "I'm fine, Inquisitor. If you recall, I've had worse."

She swiped his hand out of the way and snapped, "Shut up, and let me see!"

 Despite the battle being over, and despite knowing that the wound was nothing serious, Rhanon's hands were still shaking. She was scrambling to remove the arrow, and frantically checking the wound for any sign of poison, even though it was obvious that there was none. Her heart was racing, and when she finally did ready a healing spell, it was not as concentrated as it normally would have been.

Fenris seemed to pick up on this odd behavior as he placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Inquisitor? What is it?"

The anger dropped from her mind almost instantly and was replaced by a sharp anxiety. What _had_ gotten into her? Why was she acting like this, so frantic and impulsive? Fenris was fine and had been for the entire battle, so what could possibly have been driving her to behave this way?

His wound was healed, so she decided she wasn't going to try to figure any of this out just yet and stood as she said, "Don't worry about it. Let's go. We need to get back to the ballroom."

No one said anything, for which she was grateful, because if any of them had asked her why Fenris being injured had thrown her into such a panic, she wouldn't have had an answer. She never behaved like that when Cassandra, Cole, or anyone else was injured on the battlefield. Instead, she always accepted it as something that was just going to happen. It is the nature of battle, after all. Plus, Fenris had been injured far worse than that before, and yes, it had worried her, but not to the point that she was fussing over nothing as she just had been.

She tried desperately to shake the thoughts from her mind as she led her team out of the royal wing and back into the Vestibule. She didn't have time to focus on such things. No doubt, Florianne was already slithering through the ballroom and preparing to strike.

When she opened the double-doors leading to the ballroom, she was immediately approached by Cullen, who told her, "The Empress is preparing to give her speech, Inquisitor. What are your orders?"

Rhanon's eyes moved over the crowd, and she easily spotted Florianne walking alongside Gaspard. It would be easy, she thought, to walk onto the dance floor and call Florianne out in front of the entire court, thereby humiliating her and preventing any attempts on Celene's life. However, a thought entered her mind that Celene, Gaspard, and Briala deserved to see the consequences of their ridiculous bickering.

So she bypassed Cullen and said, "Order your men to stay back. I'll take care of this."

She ignored the inquiries of Fenris and everyone else and instead started moving toward Celene, slowly concentrating magic into her right hand with every step. Her eyes stayed trained on Florianne as the Duchess slid her hand into her dress. The sheen of a blade caught Rhanon's attention, and she knew Florianne was only seconds from making her move. So she sent a strong wave of power into her hand and finally stopped moving as she'd found the perfect vantage point.

Just as Rhanon knew she would, Florianne drew a dagger from her dress and charged, full-speed, right toward Celene. Several lords and ladies gasped, and Rhanon saw the terror on Celene's face as she recognized the threat. That was Rhanon's cue, and she threw her hand forward, sending a powerful barrier through the ballroom that snagged Florianne and held her back a mere foot from the terrified Empress. The ballroom erupted in chatter and guards started appearing from every corner to surround the trapped Duchess.

Rhanon followed them, and when she reached Florianne, she smirked at the Duchess and said, "Well, I'll give you one thing, Your Grace. You keep your word."

Florianne released a growl and spit in Rhanon's direction. Rhanon rolled her eyes, turned to the guards, and said, "Arrest her."

She then lowered the barrier, and the guards immediately obeyed. The Duchess tried, in vain, to resist, but was easily overpowered by the much larger men. Finally, Rhanon turned her attention to the three people she'd been trying to avoid all night and said, "Now, if the three of you are quite finished with your bickering, let's talk."

She didn't wait for them to respond and stormed past them, out to the nearest balcony. Once they were all safely past the doors, she pulled them closed in the hopes of limiting the number of ears that would be privy to the hell she was about to rain down on the three politicians.

She turned back to them just in time for Celene to say, " _You keep your word?_ Was that implying, Inquisitor, that you knew my cousin would attempt to kill me and yet, you did not stop her until it was almost too late?"

Rhanon crossed her arms. "Indeed. You're lucky I'm nothing like you, or I might not have stepped in at all and simply allowed your own tactics to be used against you."

The empress was visibly shaken by Rhanon's words and said, "What are you-?"

Rhanon cut her off immediately and said, "Oh, do shut up, Your Grace. All three of you were equally complicit in tonight’s events."

Gaspard, at last, spoke up and said, "A grave accusation, Inquisitor. I hope you can back it up."

She shot the Duke a glare. "We wouldn't be talking if I couldn't."

She pointed at Briala first and said, "I have a very disheveled young elf willing to testify that _you_  were sleeping with _her_ when she burned the Halamshiral alienage to the ground. I can't imagine your elven followers will appreciate that. That's not even to mention the fact that you attempted to bribe me to support you, as if that would actually work."

She then snapped at Gaspard, "I also found your mercenary captain, Grand Duke. He works for me now, and he's willing to testify that you paid him to infiltrate the palace and prepare for a coup against Celene."

Finally, she turned back to Celene and said, "And I found the naked chevalier you had tied to your bed, Your Grace. He is more than willing to testify that you _knew_ that Gaspard's coup was going to happen and you allowed it, which gave Florianne the cover she needed to move her Venatori into the palace and frame Gaspard for it."

None of the three politicians said anything for several moments, seemingly stunned by how quickly Rhanon turned the tables on them. They all glanced back and forth between each other before Celene finally spoke up, "Very well. You've made your point. What do you want?"

Rhanon sighed heavily before saying, "What I _want_ is for all of those servants down in the servants quarters to still be alive. What I _want_ is for you people to actually give a damn about the people who serve you. But, since neither of those things are likely to happen, I will settle for the three of you working together. You're going to go out there, make a pretty speech about how the three of you have resolved your differences, and you're going to clean up the mess you've made of Orlaise. And then, when I need you to help me fight The Elder One, you will send me support."

Rhanon saw Celene's face shift to look as if she'd just taken a bite of a lemon, and the other two were not too far off. The Empress quickly regained her composure, however, and said, "It is incredibly.....optimistic to believe that we can look past our differences."

Rhanon took a step closer to the empress and leaned her face in. "You don't have a choice, so you'd better start learning because I don't want to have to come back and clean up your mess again. Now go make your speech."

Rhanon walked away then, not even attempting to lower her voice when she said, " _Nuva uralas telsyl na i’ga syl nyel laimem_."

She heard Celene start to make her announcement only moments after she walked away, but she was so beyond caring about what she was going to say that she pushed her way through the crowd, heading for the closest balcony she could find and hoping that she would be left alone.  

*****

Moments after she'd finished yelling at the Empress, Gaspard, and Briala, Fenris had watched the Inquisitor's tiny form vanished in the sea of petticoats and golden masks, and he was put in the awkward position of trying to find her. Being here, surrounded by these noble fools, was bad enough, but being in the midst of them alone was even worse still. He tried to move through them as quickly and silently as possible, not wanting to draw any attention to himself lest one of them mistake him for a servant as they had several times that night. He dipped and dodged all through the room until he finally poked his head out of one of the open doors and scanned the balcony.

There she was, back turned and elbows leaned over the railing. Morrigan was walking away just as he appeared, and she moved past him as he headed onto the balcony to join the Inquisitor. Approaching the railing, he leaned his own elbows onto it as well when he said, "Can I take your hiding out on this balcony to mean it's finally time to leave? I don't know about you, but I'm ready to be done with this place."

She seemed to force a smile before answering, "Actually, I was just hiding from the dozens of men who suddenly want to dance with me. I figured after I said no to the first seven that the others would get the idea, but I guess I was wrong."

He shook his head and blew air through his nose in a light laugh. He turned his back to the railing and leaned against it when he jokingly said, "Well perhaps your _servant_ being out here with you will deter the remaining few dozen."

He glanced over at her in time to see her face to turn five shades of red. Her hand raised to her eyes for a moment before she said, "I am _so_  sorry about that, Fenris. If I could have gotten away with it, I'd have shoved that damned scroll down his throat."

He grinned in response and crossed his arms, "You don't need to apologize, Inquisitor. It wasn't your doing. I'm sure you would have come up with a far better introduction than that."

She threw him a sly smile. "Indeed. I'd have introduced you as my powerful, dashing bodyguard who enjoys crushing skulls and ripping out hearts, and who also doubles as my date for the evening. _That_  would definitely have kept the men at bay."

He raised an eyebrow and answered, " _Dashing_ , huh?"

She held raised her hand and held her index finger and thumb about an inch apart as she said, "Just a little. Don't let it go to your head."

There was a short silence after that, during which the Inquisitor reached behind her head and took hold of her ponytail. She pulled it to the front and began running her fingers through it, presumably trying to work out the knots. He'd seen it consistently through the night, but even now it was strange to see her hair in that fashion. When she finished untangling it, she threw her head to the side and flung the hair back to its original place. Airflow from the hair brushed across his face and he caught a scent he'd never smelled before. Citrus. Had her hair always smelled like that and he'd just never noticed because she always kept it tied up? Fenris might have become aware of the odd flutter that moved through his chest if the sound of whispering hadn't caught his attention.

He turned toward where he was hearing the whispering, only to catch a glimpse of what looked like four men lined up outside of the door leading back to the ballroom. They were whispering something to each other, and pointing at the Inquisitor. He sighed and knew immediately what they were doing. They were going to ask her to dance with them. From her words earlier, he knew she didn't want that, so he resolved to protect her from it. The music playing inside was more upbeat than he would have liked, but nonetheless, he held a hand out to her and said, "Dance with me, Inquisitor."

From the initial look she gave him, it was obvious she thought he was joking, but when he motioned with his eyes for her to look at the door, she caught on. Making sure to keep her eyes trained on him, she took his hand and answered, "I didn't know you could dance, Fenris."

He smirked when he pulled her in. "I'm full of surprises."

She grinned, and his left arm wrapped around her lower back while his right hand hooked into her left one. Taking care not to step on her feet or her dress, he moved to the beat of the music. As soon as she registered the speed with which they were moving, a surprised yip escaped from her lips. He had to chuckle at that. She'd never made a sound like that before. When the song hit an apex, he dropped her left hand and grasped onto her waist, lifting her into the air and spinning her one time before setting her back down and proceeding with the dance. That was when she started laughing. It wasn't one of the fake laughs she'd been forcing out since Jenna's death, and it wasn't one of the awkward ones she often used to lighten the mood. No, she was having fun.

And as soon as he realized it, a peculiar desire reared its head. He wanted her to laugh like that again. So he waited for another apex, and when it happened, he held her tightly about her waist and dipped her head down, holding her only a foot from the floor before pulling her back up. She laughed again, and he was quickly discovering that the sound of it was intoxicating to the point that he was looking forward to the next apex.

When it finally happened, he outstretched his arm and allowed her to twirl down the length of it before he took her wrist and yanked her back to him. She crashed into his chest, and her laughter continued to echo through the night air as they slid back into the beat. It happened slowly, but as the seconds ticked by, Fenris became aware of something. Her hand in his, his arm gripping her and holding her against him, their faces so close that he could feel her breath on his neck, and the ever-present smell of citrus being carried through the light wind around them, all of it felt… _good_. It felt so good, in fact, that he started wishing that the song wouldn't end.

Which was odd because it wasn't as if this was the first time they'd ever touched each other. She'd hugged his arm before, and he'd even held her hand after their discussion about Leliana and Firmin. So why did _this_  feel so different than all of those other times? He didn't know, but every time he felt another one of her breaths move over his neck, the feeling grew, and his body responded to it by gripping her just a little bit tighter. So, by the time the song ended, his hands seemed almost to have melded into her, so much so that he didn't let her go.

Instead, they fell into another of those wordless moments where they simply looked at each other. Only this time, instead of confusion, a new feeling crept in. He'd always known she was beautiful. Even if the Iron Bull hadn't made his ridiculous comments, Fenris would have, eventually, taken notice of her beauty. He _was_ still a man, after all. But her beauty had always taken the back seat to everything else about her: her ability to lead, her strength in the face of adversity, and the friendship she'd allowed him to have with her. Now, though, it was front and center. He wasn't just _looking_  at her anymore. For the first time since they'd met, he was allowing himself to _see_  her, and not as the Inquisitor, his leader, but as Rhanon, a woman. How? How had he gone this long without ever noticing she was _this_  beautiful? Had he simply not been paying attention, or had he been so distracted by her title that he'd let it cloud his vision of her?

He realized that the song had ended several moments ago, and he was expecting her to push him away any second. But she didn't. She just kept staring back at him and even gripped onto the front of his overshirt just a little bit tighter. Red was spreading across her cheeks and the sight drew a feeling out of him he'd buried so deep that he'd never thought to feel it again. He wanted to kiss her. More than that, the look in her eyes and her willingness to remain in his arms despite the song being over told him something else: she wanted it too. He could feel the invisible hand on the back of his head, pushing him forward, encouraging him to do it, and for a moment, he considered it.

The thought was so jarring, so frightening, that he immediately released her and backed away. He saw the confusion in her eyes when she said, "Fenris?"

Just a single word, his name. It should have been nothing, just like it always was, but the way she said it sent him barreling into a memory he'd been pushing down for nearly a year.

__'_ Fenris?' _

_'I have been thinking of you. In fact, I've been able to think of little else. Command me to go, and I shall.'_

_'Shut up.'_

Hawke. She hadn't even been dead for a year. Thinking about her was still painful, and he still felt her absence as if he were missing a part of his body. But as soon as another woman had walked willingly into his arms, he'd forgotten her completely. How could he have done that? He'd never loved anything in his life the way he'd loved her. The whole reason he joined the Inquisition was to seek retribution against the man who took her from him. So how could he have allowed himself, for even a fleeting second, to consider kissing Rhanon?

Was he really being so quick to replace Hawke, to try to fill the void she left behind with someone else? He decided, at that moment, that he wasn't going to do that. Not _only_  because he wasn't ready to let Hawke go, but because Rhanon deserved better. She was too good, too caring, and too loyal to be tethered to a man who spent a good portion of his waking hours chasing a ghost. She deserved someone who could give her _everything_. As it was, Hawke took a part of him with her when she died, a part he knew he was _never_ going to get back as long as he lived.

So he didn't say another word and walked away, leaving Rhanon on the balcony and disappearing into the crowd. She might hate him for it, but he resolved that this would be the last time he allowed her to get that close to him. Not because he didn't want to be near her, but because he wasn't sure if he'd have the willpower to resist a second time.


	19. Chapter 19

After the nightmare that was the Winter Palace, Rhanon was more than ready to head out on a mission that _didn't_ involve wearing dresses and walking on eggshells around a bunch of clueless nobles. She'd received word from a man named Fairbanks about a supposed partnership between the Red Templars and the Freemen of the Dales. He'd asked her to meet him in the Emerald Graves for more details, and she was eager to get going.

So she headed off to Fenris' quarters like she always did before a mission to ask him if he wanted to go. She tapped on his door and when he answered it, she knew instantly that something was wrong. His posture was off, and there were dark rings under his eyes, indicating lack of sleep. Her immediate thought was that he was ill, so she knew he was probably going to say no.

Still, it felt wrong not to ask, so she said, "Hey. We're heading out to the Emerald Graves. Do you want to come?"

She could see the hesitation behind his eyes before he even said anything. So she was unsurprised when he said, "If it's all the same to you, Inquisitor, I'd like to sit this one out."

She grinned in response. "I figured you were going to say that. You're not looking so hot."

He averted his eyes like he always did when he was uncomfortable, so she knew that was her cue to leave. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder and said, "All right. We should be back in a few weeks, so get some rest while we're gone."

He nodded before closing the door, and she sighed at the prospect of going on a mission without him. She'd grown accustomed to always having him at her side, so it would be strange to be away from him for such a length of time. Still, she couldn't expect him to go with her everywhere, especially when he was obviously feeling ill. So she thought nothing of it and headed off to the library to find Dorian. The sooner she left, the sooner she could see some real action.

*****

Fenris told himself it wasn't the same thing.

When he and Hawke had spent their first night together, his first instinct after waking up had been to run, and that was exactly what he did. So he'd been in this exact same awkward position before, which made him also notice every single other parallel.

Rhanon flirted with him like Hawke had. She brought him with her on nearly every mission like Hawke had. She even took the time to have long conversations with him like Hawke had. He and Rhanon seemed to simultaneously discover that their relationship was stepping outside the boundaries of friendship, just like he and Hawke had; the only difference being that he'd held himself back from _actually_  kissing Rhanon.

Still, despite everything else lining up perfectly, he refused to admit that he was running away from Rhanon just like he'd run from Hawke.

 _It's not the same_ , he told himself. _This way is better for Rhanon. It's for her own good._

It didn't matter that he'd made an almost identical excuse when Hawke took him back: _I thought it better if you hated me._ It wasn't the same, and he would never believe otherwise.

*****

When Fairbanks first told Rhanon about the partnership between the Red Templars and the Freemen of the Dales, she hadn't been terribly concerned about it. It would be easy enough, she thought, to clear the Freemen out of Villa Maurel and Argon's Lodge. Along with Varric, Dorian, and Blackwall, she fought her way through the Villa, taking out every Freeman she saw along the way. The only one who gave them even a little bit of trouble was the leader, but he still didn't last long. After battling demons, Venatori, and Red Templars as often as they did, a group of normal men was a respite.

She found a letter in the leader's pocket that proved what Fairbanks had told her. The Freemen and the Red Templars were, indeed, working together. However, what she hadn't expected to find was the second letter that came with it. When she opened it, the first word that caught her eye was 'Tevinter' and the second word was 'slaves.' With every word she read, rage boiled in her chest until she finally crumpled the letter up and tossed it to the ground at her feet.

She scoffed, turned to her team, and said, "Well, I can't tell if it's horribly ironic or just plain horrible that a group who calls themselves "Freemen" are helping the Red Templars smuggle in Tevinter slaves to use for their lyrium experiments."

"I'd go with both," Varric answered. "So, what do you want to do, Inquisitor?"

She pocketed the first letter she found and motioned for everyone to get moving. They all started following her out of the Villa, and she said, "We're going to clear out Argon's Lodge first, but Fenris would never forgive me if we left the Emerald Graves without taking out the base where they are keeping those slaves. I'd never forgive myself, either."

Blackwall grinned and said, "Stomping slavers? That's something I can definitely get behind. What are we waiting for?"

Rhanon half-smiled at Blackwall's words. She could picture Fenris saying nearly those exact words if he were there. She hadn't been terribly disappointed about his inability to accompany her this time, but now that she was about to rip apart a slaver's den, she found herself wishing he was there. She pictured the smirk that would have, no doubt, appeared on his face at the prospect of taking out the slavers, and she had to stop herself short of laughing.

She snapped back to attention when Varric tapped her on the arm and said, "You in there, Inquisitor?"

Wait. Was she just... daydreaming, daydreaming about Fenris? When did she start acting like some doe-eyed Lady fawning over a man? Glad that Cole wasn't there to announce her thoughts to the whole group, she tried to shove down the embarrassment. She threw on her best smirk and was about to come up with a sarcastic response when the anchor in her hand flashing caught her attention.

All other thoughts dropped from her mind, and she looked about frantically, trying to find where the rift had opened. Her eyes fell on the rift just in time for it to drop out not only two Pride demons but also a Terror. She recognized the beast immediately because it was the form the Aspect of the Nightmare had chosen to take on when she battled it in the Fade.

So she also knew how dangerous it was, and exclaimed, "Terror! Watch yourselves!"

Blackwall charged straight in, shield raised, and Varric hurled spikes at the feet of the Pride demons to try to trip them up. Just as they always did when they battled together, Rhanon and Dorian stood side-by-side and pooled their strength. While Dorian kept a wall of fire under the feet of one of the Pride demons to keep it on its knees, she trapped the second one in a cage of lightning that would yank it back every time it tried to leave.

The Terror, however, was a much greater threat as it zipped across the battlefield like a shadow, making it nearly impossible to zero in on it with a spell. Its habit of teleporting across the field made it equally difficult for Blackwall to keep its attention, so Varric had to backflip out of the beast's path more than once. And with the Pride demons throwing out occasional ropes of lightning to smash through hers and Dorian's barriers, Rhanon knew this fight wasn't going to end quickly.

Hoping that it would at least finish off the Pride demons, Rhanon focused extra power into the cage she was conjuring and expanded it to cover the entire field. Once the Pride demons and the Terror were both stuck inside the cage, she drove her staff into the dirt beside her and readied a second spell, one she hated using due to how much it tired her.

"Blackwall!" she called out. "Get out of there!"

While Blackwall was sprinting away from the field, her hands clasped together and she forced magic into them while also maintaining the lightning cage. The fatigue hit her all at once, and she knew she wasn't going to have any power left after this was over, but she also knew she didn't have a choice. She focused the new spell inside of the cage she'd built, raised her arms and sent a firestorm raining down on all three demons. Meteor after meteor slammed into the three creatures but, because of the cage, they could not escape from it.

After the initial wave of meteors, however, the cage flickered and collapsed due to Rhanon's rapidly, draining mana. The meteors still left their mark, though, as both Pride demons crumpled to the ground and were sucked back into the rift. That was all Rhanon managed to see before her knees gave out. Her palms pressed into the dirt under her and she tried to fight the tunnel vision that told her she was very close to blacking out. Clearly, she'd pushed it just a little too hard.

This fact was made doubly clear when a familiar sensation drifted through her head. Her eyes widened and her heart hammered her chest at the feeling of something poking around inside of her head. Last time, the feeling had brought with it a sense of despair to match the demons that attacked her, so the terror running through her body told her which demon had hold of her this time. She went on the defensive and reminded herself that the beast would be dead soon so all she had to do was hold out for a few moments.

The image it showed her was, at first, very familiar. She saw an ice rune appear under her feet, and she was certain that she knew what was coming next. The hand pressed against her back and shoved her out of the way. She stumbled and landed on her stomach, out of the ice rune's path. She rolled over to see blood splattered on the ground and ice protruding out of the ground with lines of red trickling down them. She raised her eyes, preparing herself for the sight of Jenna, only to choke on a gasp. White hair, green eyes, lyrium swirling in his skin, and his mouth hanging agape with blood dripping out of it.

It wasn't real. She knew it wasn't real. Jenna, not Fenris, had been the one to die on that rune. And yet the image was so unexpected, so shocking, and so painful that her eyes began to mist over and her chest wrenched tighter than it ever had before.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the image melted away, and the Terror was sucked back into the rift. But she couldn't move. The image was gone, but she could still see it, even when she closed her eyes. It was as if it had burned itself into her retinas and she was unable to make it vanish. Had Varric not grabbed her by her shoulder and shaken her, more demons might have jumped out through that rift.

However, once the dwarf got her attention, she sealed it without hesitation and tried, unsuccessfully, to climb to her feet. When she started to fall again, Blackwall's strong hand grasped her by her forearm and held her up. She thanked him, and she heard him and the others making jokes about her "staring off into space." but she scarcely heard them.

Nothing she'd faced in her life could have prepared her for the effect that Terror's image was having on her. The overwhelming realization set her mind to swimming with thoughts and feelings that she never thought she'd have. When did this happen? When did Fenris start to mean __so__  much to her that his death was now her worst fear? And what did that mean for the two of them?

*****

Sparring. It was one of the only things Fenris could do to take his mind off things he didn't want to think about. The practice dummies were usually enough, but not now. There were far too many things piling up inside of his head that he needed to ignore, so he needed the extra challenge of having someone in front of him fighting back.

It had taken a week, but Fenris found himself waking up in the morning, remembering that Rhanon was not at Skyhold, and descending into an emotional cocktail of disappointment and dread. Had he not spent the past decade learning so much about himself, he might not have known what those two emotions meant, but now he was in the equally awkward position of being _aware_. Disappointment and dread, they added up to equal two things: he didn't just miss Rhanon, he was worried for her.

Due to her asking him to come on nearly every mission with her for the past several months, he had never been apart from her for very long, and he'd _always_  been there to protect her. But, because of his own decision to pull away, she was out in one of the most dangerous forests on this half of Thedas, and he was at Skyhold. It was ridiculous, he knew that. She'd survived just fine without him for quite a while before he arrived, so there was no reason to think she was anything less than safe. She had Varric, Dorian, and Blackwall with her, after all, and Blackwall was an army by himself.

That's what he had to tell himself, anyway, to keep from losing his mind with worry. Eventually, though, he challenged Bull to another sparring match when consoling himself stopped being enough. And that was where he was when the gates of Skyhold opened and Rhanon walked through them with the team she'd brought.

Bull walked away to greet her, and Fenris couldn't stop the heavy wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of Rhanon alive and well. His feet twitched with the desire to go to her, to say "forget it" to his plan to avoid her, and continue on as normal. Only he knew it wouldn't be normal. Since that night on the balcony, he was unable to look at her the same way he used to. No longer did he look at her and simply see a leader and a good friend, he saw the woman he was so attracted to that he'd very nearly kissed her. So, no matter how much he hated it, he made himself walk away. He retreated to his quarters and hoped that she didn't see him.

He should have known better, though. He was alone in his quarters for only a few minutes when a knock on his door sent a cold chill through his body. He knew it was her, which made him desperately want to ignore it, but she'd clearly seen him enter, so that was pointless. Swallowing the knot in his throat, he approached the door and opened it. The heaviness in his chest doubled at the sight of her, however. She was standing with her arms crossed, obviously annoyed, but there was also a slump to her posture. Her eyes were dark, and her hair not as well kept as normal, which told him that she probably hadn't slept much for the past week at least.

Just as he'd expected her to, she started with sarcasm and said, "So I'm on my way back from the Emerald Graves, and the whole time I'm thinking, "Wait until I get back and tell Fenris that he missed out on helping me take out a whole nest of slavers. He's gonna be so jealous." Imagine my surprise when I walk through the gates of Skyhold, you look right at me, and then you run away like I've got the bloody plague."

Her eyebrows ran together and she said, "So do you want to tell me why you're avoiding me?"

He didn't know why his first inclination was to lie, but he said, "I'm not."

She scoffed. "Oh, don't even try it. I haven't left here without you very many times, but every time I did, you always at least came to say "hi" when I got back. This time, you looked at me like I was a damned banshee and ran back to your quarters. So cut the bullshit and tell me why."

He'd expected this. He knew she was going to demand answers from the moment he decided to pull away. And yet, he hadn't prepared any kind of answer. So now he was thoroughly tongue-tied and had no idea how he was supposed to explain to her what was going on without hurting her.

It was during his stunned silence that she spoke up again, "Well, whatever it is can't be too terribly important if you can't even tell me."

He poured it over in his head again and again, but there didn't seem to be any other way. If he told her the truth, she wouldn't understand, and she'd try to talk him out of it. He couldn't let that happen because the ache in his chest told him one thing: he would give in if she asked him to. So he did the only thing he knew would work.

He allowed the typhoon of emotions swirling within him to funnel into anger, and he snapped, "What is this? Do you think I suddenly owe you something because of what happened at the Winter Palace?"

The look that appeared on her face then was so sickeningly familiar that he wanted to kick himself for what he'd just said. He'd seen that expression only one other time: when Enchanter Lilian had taunted her about Jenna. Only this time, it wasn't a corrupt politician causing Rhanon this pain, it was him. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to take her hand, tell her he didn't mean it and ask her to forget it. And she would if he asked her to, he knew she would. Which was why he didn't. It was better this way. If she was angry with him, if she hated him, then at least she wouldn't seek him out herself and pulling away would be easier.

She said nothing after that and turned to leave, the utter betrayal plain on her face. His body hadn't felt this heavy since the night he'd left Hawke, and, after seeing the suffering in Rhanon's eyes he was finally able to admit that it _was_ , in fact, the same thing.

*****

She should have been understanding. She should have seen his outburst for what it was, simply a way of deflecting, much like she did with humor. But she couldn't. Not now. She'd just spent the past several weeks being unable to sleep through the night due to being plagued by the image the Terror had shown her. She was hardly weak enough for the nightmare to keep her down, but one of the things that made battling the exhaustion easier was the prospect of coming back here and seeing Fenris. She'd seen him, all right, and now, after she'd discovered that he meant so much to her, he was pushing her away.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, she told herself. Why did you let yourself get so close?_

She remembered the morning before Barris' "trial." She remembered warning herself not to let Fenris become a rock for her to lean on because she knew something like this might happen. And now she was feeling the repercussions of not heeding her own advice. She'd allowed herself to become so reliant on him for emotional support that thoughts of him kept the nightmares at bay. What was going to happen now that he'd decided he'd had enough of her?

_You're going to remind everyone just how weak you are._

She stopped in her tracks just outside the door to her quarters. She knew what her own internal "voice" sounded like and that wasn't it. In fact, that voice didn't sound like it had come from inside of her head at all. It sounded like it had come from right behind her head, but when she turned there was no one there. Not only that, but it sounded familiar, too familiar.

She tried to ignore it and tore the door open. She wasn't going to let this get the better of her. She'd survived on her own before, so she could do it now. She only had to remind herself how.


	20. Chapter 20

_He just needs some space for a few days._ That's what Rhanon told herself after she'd finally calmed down. Fenris' words had been harsh, and she couldn't deny that they'd hurt her, but she wasn't about to jump to conclusions. Perhaps he'd simply had a bad day and took his anger out on her. It wasn't unheard of for friends to do that, right? She'd never really thought too much about the fact that she didn't have friends growing up, but some insight about friendship would have been pretty damned useful right about then.

Hoping to get her mind off the whole thing, she headed to the war room to see if there was anything that needed doing. When she arrived, she found not only all three of her advisers, but also Morrigan. When she approached, they all turned to her, and she smiled. She placed her hands on the table and said, "Mind if I join the party?"

Josephine smiled back and said, "Of course, My Lady. We were just about to send for you, in fact."

Rhanon raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if I should be worried or excited."

Josephine then glanced at Leliana, who said, "I wish it could be the later, Inquisitor, but my agents have made a rather....disturbing discovery."

Disturbing? Whatever it was had to be pretty gruesome for Leliana to be disturbed by it. Rhanon could only hope it wasn't anything overwhelming when she said, "All right. Let's hear it."

Leliana hooked her hands behind her back. "You recall the nest of slavers you defeated in the Emerald Graves? In your report, you said that they had plans to sell the slaves to the Red Templars for use in some sort of lyrium experiment."

Rhanon nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

A grave look fell over Leliana's face and she said, "We believe we may have discovered the end goal of those experiments. One of my agents sent me a report about a pile of corpses with what he called "Red versions of the markings the Inquisitor's elf friend has.""

Rhanon's heart pounded just a little bit faster at that. She'd never asked Fenris about the markings because she sensed it was a more sensitive topic than even Hawke. Still, she knew enough to know that, should the Red Templars succeed, the Inquisition's job would get a whole lot harder.

" _Elger'nan_ ," Rhanon said.

Leliana sighed. "My thoughts exactly, Inquisitor. I'm sure you'll agree that our first course of action should be to track down the location of the slavers' main base. We will, however, need a backup plan just in case the Red Templars succeed."

That much was obvious, so Rhanon asked, "You have an idea about that, Leliana?"

Leliana nodded. "We hoped that you might ask Fenris to speak with Dagna. He is more familiar with the markings and the process of applying them than anyone else, and any information he has would be invaluable."

Rhanon felt her expression shift at Leliana's words. Had hers and Fenris' last interaction not been so heated, Rhanon wouldn't have thought anything of asking him about this, but as it was, she wasn't sure how he was going to take this. Still, she wasn't going to let that stop her from asking him. Surely once he realized why she was asking, he wouldn't hesitate. Plus, this would give her the chance to figure out if he had, in fact, just been having a bad day.

So she ordered Leliana to find out where the slavers' base was and took off toward Fenris' quarters. When she reached the door, she momentarily hesitated, which only angered her. Why was she so nervous about this? She hadn't done anything wrong, after all. If anything, he was the one in the wrong for being so rude for no reason. She pushed down the anxiety and tapped on his door.

As soon as he answered it, the slump in his posture, the tightness of his jawline, and the apprehension behind his eyes told her something was wrong. Normally, when he saw her, he grinned at the very least. This time, his expression told her that he couldn't wait for her to leave again.

Clearly, things were still tense, so she decided to cut to the chase and said, "So you remember how I told you we took out a nest of slavers in the Emerald Graves?"

He offered no verbal response and simply nodded. When she figured out she wasn't getting any more than that, she went on, "Evidently, there are more of them and they have been selling slaves to the Red Templars for lyrium experiments. And.....one of Leliana's agents found corpses with red lyrium markings like yours."

The expression on his face shifted instantly to anger, and she saw his fists clench. She figured his reaction would be something like that, and said, "Yeah....didn't figure you'd like that very much. That's why I'm here to ask you if you'd go speak with Dagna. We need her to know as much about the markings as possible so that we can develop counter-measures just in case the Red Templars succeed."

The anxiety returned to his face, and she knew he didn't like the idea. Hardly surprising since he'd, no doubt, spent a good deal of time being examined by not only Danarius but also other magisters because of those markings. He didn't argue, though, and said, "Very well, Inquisitor. I'll go speak to the dwarf."

"Thank you," she answered.

He nodded and, for the first time since they'd met, an awkward silence fell between them. More evidence that something was wrong. The silences between them had never been awkward before. She looked at him, like she always did, and tried to read something, anything from his face. But, just as he did when he was playing Wicked Grace, he'd built a wall up around himself and banished all tells. Even before they became friends, she never felt __this__  disconnected from him.

So she had to ask, "What's going on, Fenris? Are we still friends or aren't we?"

Nothing. His expression didn't change in the slightest. Instead, he simply put his hand on the door and said, "Perhaps we'll speak later, Inquisitor."

The door closed, and her chest wrenched just as hard as it did when she saw the Fear Demon's vision. Along with the wrenching came a sharp pain in her head that made her wince and raise her hand to grip her hair.

_Poor girl. He just doesn't want you. You really should have known better._

There that voice was again. Only this time, it was louder and added to the splitting headache. What was it? She'd heard voices in her sleep, but never when she was awake. She __had__  been having trouble sleeping since she encountered the Terror. Perhaps that was it. She didn't want to think about the possibility that Fenris' rejection caused this. She was not so weak as to allow a little heartbreak to break her.

She decided now was as good a time as any to stop by and visit Lord Firmin. It had been a while, after all, and she could use the distraction. So she headed off to the guest wing.

She found the young Lord sitting on the floor next to his chess board. She tapped on the door to his room and said, "My Lord. May I join you?"

He turned his head up, and she was shocked when the normally bright smile fell from his face at the sight of her. He climbed to his feet and said, "O-Of course, Rhanon. I had a feeling you were gonna stop by so I was preparing the board."

She didn't like his initial reaction, but she wasn't going to grill him about it. Instead, she sat down on her side of the board and asked, "Have you been practicing?"

He sat down on his side. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and moved her first pawn. "And have you kept in mind what I told you last time?"

He nodded. "Hold onto the Queen as long as possible. I remember. Do you remember what you promised?"

She chuckled. "I do. I believe I owe you the story about the Eluvian."

Firmin moved a pawn and then peered up at her, waiting patiently for her to start. She exhaled heavily and began, "There once were two Dalish elves named Mahariel and Tamlen. They were good friends and went on many hunts together. Mahariel was cautious and heeded the warnings of her Keeper, but Tamlen was impulsive and prone to disobedience. One day, while on a hunt, Tamlen and Mahariel came across a cave, one that their Keeper had ordered them to stay away from. Tamlen was curious as to what was in there, however, and went inside."

She paused only long enough to move another pawn and carried on, "Mahariel didn't want Tamlen to be hurt, so she went with him just in case he ran into trouble. She followed him all the way to the back of the cave where they found-"

"Rhanon," Firmin interrupted.

She gave him a stern look and said, "Now, My Lord, what did I tell you about interrupting?"

The little boy's hands folded together in his lap and he started fidgeting. His eyes stayed trained on the chessboard when he said, "I know. It's rude to interrupt, but I need to ask you something important."

She kept a smile on her face when she said, "All right. Go ahead."

He seemed to hesitate at first, but eventually said, "Did my cousin do something bad again? Is that why you look so sad?"

She almost had to ask him to repeat himself. What was he talking about?

Her hands shook as she reached for another pawn and said, "What do you mean, My Lord? What makes you think your cousin did anything bad?"

His hands fidgeted faster and he still didn't raise his eyes when he answered, "I know she sent an assassin after you last time. Just tell me if she did something else bad. I'll tell her not to do it again."

The boy might as well have slammed her in the chest with both of his feet because every ounce of air left her lungs and she felt that sharp pain in her head from earlier. Her hand flew to the side of her head and she said, "H-How do you know about that? Who told you?"

He finally raised his eyes and said, "I overheard it from the guards. Everything else I figured out on my own."

The pain shot through her head again at his words, and she asked, "Everything else?"

He nodded. "I've known for a while....why I'm actually here. You don't have to lie anymore, Rhanon."

She could see his lips moving after that, so she knew he was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. On top of the pain in her head which had just become a hundred times worse, the voice she'd been hearing for the past few days had escalated to a full-blown shout, and it was telling her, " _You hear that? Skyhold is his prison, you're his jailer, and now he knows it. How does that feel, my dear?_ "

This time it __was__  coming from inside of her head, which told her one of her worst nightmares had just come to life. This was a demon. She was possessed. She knew she had moments, at best, before she lost complete control over her body, so she looked right into Firmin's eyes when she said, "My Lord, you need to get away from me, now!"

She saw the fear behind the little boy's eyes when he exclaimed, "What!? But, Rhanon, why!? What's wrong!?"

She shook her head violently. "There's no time to explain! Just run! Now!"

The little boy's knees shook as he got to his feet and dashed out of the room, shouting for help the entire time. Once he was gone, her hands reached up and gripped tightly to her hair, and she scrambled to form the words she needed to say. She heard her voice trembling when she said, "Cole! I know you can hear me! I need you to get Cassandra and as many Templars as you can find and bring them to Lord Firmin's room! Now!"

_Templars? Are you really going to be so quick to throw your life away?_

She shut her eyes tight and tried her hardest to ignore the voice as she hoped beyond hope that help would arrive soon.

*****

Fenris heard the screams of the young boy long before he saw him. He'd just finished speaking with Dagna and was passing through the guest wing on his way to the sparring arena when he first heard the scream. He stopped in his tracks and waited as Lord Firmin bolted around a corner and ran right into his legs. The lad toppled to the ground and Fenris could see tears pouring down his face.

He was immediately concerned because he knew how important the boy was to Rhanon, and he knelt down as he said, "What's the problem, boy?"

The boy's eyes lit up and he climbed to his feet before pointing back toward his bedroom. "You're Rhanon's friend! Please, you have to help her! She's hurt!"

Hurt? Rhanon? Like they had many times, Fenris' instincts kicked in, and he bolted in the direction of Firmin's room. He found the door open and was stunned to a halt by the sight within. Rhanon was on her knees, hands gripping her head, with the most pitiful whimper escaping from her lips. Her hair was completely down and fell over her face like a veil, and her whole body trembled.

Without a second thought, he charged into the room and said, "Rhanon!"

Her head raised, and their eyes met for only a second before she raised her hand and he found himself being thrown backward by a mind blast. His back slammed into the wall next to the door, and it wasn't until he looked for the second time that he saw something that made his skin crawl.

The sapphire in her eyes was completely gone, replaced with a deep violet, and he could hear her fighting back tears when she said, "Don't... come near me, Fenris! I'm-"

Mid-sentence, her voice changed to one he did not recognize, and something he knew wasn't Rhanon said, " _Well well well. If it isn't my favorite handsome elf._ "

Every hair on Fenris' body stood on end as the pieces fell into place. Possession. Rhanon was possessed. A weight heavier than any he'd ever felt crashed down on his chest and he climbed back to his feet. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't let her stay like this. She would become an abomination. Rhanon... an abomination. No. He wouldn't allow it.

The demon smirked at him and said, " _Oh my, but that's a hateful look. Makes me want to eat you up_."

Rhanon's voice punched back through and she exclaimed, "No! Don't you touch him!"

The demon's voice overtook Rhanon's again and it released a sickeningly gleeful laugh before it made Rhanon stand and cross her arms. Another smirk fell over her face and the demon said, " _So sorry, but you aren't in control anymore, my dear. You have ** **him****  to thank for that._"

Rhanon's hands then erupted in fire, and one of them pointed in his direction. The flames reflected off of the purple in her eyes and he saw the small glow that always came right before Rhanon launched a spell. At the very last second, however, her other hand shot forward and grasped onto the wrist of the one pointed at him. Rhanon forcibly yanked the arm down and held it in place as she shouted, "No! I won't....let you! Fenris, you have to kill me!"

Kill her? The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Every single scenario that was playing through his head involved subduing her long enough to expel the demon. Killing her was so far outside of the realm of possibilities that he said, "What?"

The demon's voice echoed, " _Dammit! You little bitch! Stop fighting me! You've already lost_!"

Rhanon released what almost sounded like a battle cry before saying, "I won't be able to resist for much longer! Kill me, Fenris!"

He knew what she was asking, and he knew it was the smartest course of action. Despite how careful she'd been, Rhanon was possessed. A possessed mage becomes an abomination, and abominations destroy everything in their path. He knew that, and yet, he could not move. Memories flooded his mind against his own will and exacerbated the ache still present in his chest. Her fingers wrapping around his wrist for the first time and causing the lyrium in his arm to spark. Her arm hooking into his and her head leaning on his shoulder. Her body pressed up against his on the balcony of the Winter Palace.

No. No matter how much sense it made. No matter how many lives might be lost because of his negligence, he couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Regardless of his beliefs about magic and his resolve to destroy any abomination he came across, Rhanon had worked her way into his life, and he wasn't going to kill her. So, knowing he had only a few moments left before the demon forced her to fight him, he stared on at her face and prepared himself for what he knew was about to be the toughest battle of his life.

Her eyes overflowed with tears when she pleaded, "Fenris! Please! I don't want to hurt you! Don't let me… please!"

No amount of begging was going to change his mind. He wouldn't kill her, but, with luck, he might subdue her long enough for help to arrive. If someone had told him ten years ago that he'd be risking so many lives to protect a mage from becoming an abomination, he'd have laughed in their faces. But here he was, igniting his lyrium and readying himself to charge.

At last, the demon's voice punched back through and it said, " _Well, that's about enough of that, I think. Now… where were we, handsome?_ "

The fire sprang forth from her hands again, and Fenris crouched, prepared to dash forward as soon as she loosed the spell.

The pre-casting glow fanned out from her hand but was quickly stamped out when, miraculously, Rhanon's whole body was jarred by a spell being shot from the entrance of the room. Fenris turned in time to see the bald elf hold out his hand toward Rhanon and launch a second spell. It wracked her body a second time and left her completely unconscious. She flopped to the floor like a boned fish and three Templars, including Ser Barris, pushed past Solas to enter the room. Had Barris not been there, Fenris might have been worried that the Templars would kill Rhanon, but he knew Barris wouldn't allow that unless there was no other choice.

Barris and his men spread out in equal distance around Rhanon and knelt. Warm, cream-colored lights shone from all three Templars and illuminated the room. After a few seconds, a translucent barrier of the same color seemed to take roots and grow out of the floor around Rhanon. It reached all the way to the ceiling of the room, and the danger, for the moment, was past, so Fenris relaxed his lyrium.

One after another, every member of the Inner Circle, including the advisers and Morrigan, filed into the room. Cassandra was the first to speak and turned to Fenris as she asked, "Do you have any idea how this happened?"

Fenris shook his head. "The demon seems to think I am somehow at fault, but I hardly see how that could be the case."

Solas spoke up next. "Demons will say anything to get under our skin. Cole, can you tell what kind of demon it is?"

The jittery young man stepped closer to Rhanon and said, " _Consume, devour, envelop, ingest, destroy. Never sated, never satisfied _.__ Hunger. It is Hunger."

Solas crossed his arms. "Problematic. Hunger demons are exceedingly rare and, as such, are always monstrously powerful, which is probably why it was able to so easily possess the Inquisitor."

Easily? The elf clearly had not seen what Fenris saw, so he felt the need to tell him, "She did _not_ make it easy, mage."

Solas shrugged. "Regardless, something needs to be done quickly before the Inquisitor's mind is completely taken."

Fenris heard Cassandra say, "Cole, you helped the Inquisitor when she was possessed by the Envy demon. Can you do that again?"

At "envy demon," Fenris turned to look at Cassandra. Rhanon had been possessed before? It must have happened before he came to Skyhold, but the fact that this _had_ happened before made him feel just a little bit better. It meant there was a good chance of Rhanon coming out of this alive and well.

Cole's hands began to fidget and he shook his head, "I'm too real, now."

Fenris had no idea what that meant, nor did he care enough to ask. He just needed to know what the backup plan was, so he looked at Solas. The bald mage peered down over Rhanon when he said, "Then there's no other choice. Someone must be sent into the Fade to destroy the demon. It cannot be me because I have to perform the ritual, but it would be best to send someone who has been to the Fade before."

Cassandra immediately said, "I will go. I cannot become possessed, so I am the best choice."

Fenris didn't hesitate and said, "No."

Cassandra turned to him and her eyebrows ran together. "What?"

"You're the Inquisition's second-in-command," he said, "You need to stay alive. I'll go."

A lie, a blatant lie. He didn't care one way or another about Cassandra's rank or her value to the Inquisition. He just wasn't prepared to leave Rhanon's fate to someone else. The only one who seemed to be able to tell he was lying, though, was Cole, who glanced in his direction and cocked his head to the side.    

No one seemed eager to argue, though, and Solas asked, "Have you been to the Fade before?"

"Yes," Fenris answered.

He was sure he'd never forget that trip to the Fade for as long as he lived. He decided not to mention how easily he'd been swayed by the Pride Demon's offer, lest they use that as an excuse not to send him. As it was, Solas seemed to be satisfied and told him, "Very well. Prepare yourself, _da'len_. We cannot know what you will face once you pass through the Veil."

He knew Solas was right, but after being faced with the possibility of killing Rhanon, a trip to the Fade was no more frightening than a fennec. So he felt no fear when he lay back on the floor near Rhanon and Solas began the ritual. His lyrium came alight at the introduction of Solas' magic, and his eyelids became heavy before he slipped into a dream, confident that he was coming back with Rhanon one way or another.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Su an’banal i’ma: "May the void take you."
> 
> Lethal'lin, ma ane amahn: "My friend, you're here."

When Fenris first opened his eyes, he questioned whether he was actually in the Fade or not. The space around him looked just like a regular forest, save for some very out of place boulders that cut through the forest floor as if being pushed from below. But when he felt the familiar pressure weighing down his body, he knew he was definitely in the Fade. That is not a sensation you forget. He made sure to keep a close eye on his surroundings as he moved through the trees and began searching for any sign of Rhanon or the demon.

 The first thing that caught his attention, however, was the sound of several high-pitched voices giggling. Children? He knew he was inside of Rhanon's Fade dream, but he hadn't expected to hear children. As he moved further through the forest, he started coming across what looked like the remnants of tents and even a few tipped over aravels with missing wheels. Finally, the source of the laughter came barreling into the dilapidated camp: a half-dozen child-shaped, misty apparitions chased each other around the trees and straight through the tents.

He followed the apparitions with his eyes until he saw them head straight for another smaller apparition that seemed to be standing by itself. As soon as the half-dozen approached it, however, they stopped and started taking a few steps back.

At last, one of them spoke and said, "Don't get any closer to her. My mae said she hardly ever talks, so she's gonna become an abomination."

Another of the children sneered. "Then why don't they just send her away?"

"You're a freak, Rhanon!" another shouted. "You should just leave before you hurt someone!"

The lone apparition hugged itself, and a pitifully weak voice said, "I won't hurt anyone. I would never...."

One of the other apparitions lunged at her and shoved her against a nearby tree before exclaiming, "Just go away! No one wants you here!"

The apparition representing Rhanon turned to run and disappeared into a cloud of mist along with the other six. As soon as they were gone, a knot formed in Fenris' throat. Rhanon had mentioned the superstition about "silent" mages, but he never knew the superstition was so widely-believed that parents were teaching it to their children. How much ostracizing and bullying must she have suffered at the hands of those children and their ignorant parents? Suddenly, his actions over the past few days seemed exponentially worse, and a deep regret took root in his chest.

She hadn't even hesitated to order him to kill her when she realized she'd become a danger to him. She'd begged him, through tears, not to let her bring him any harm. And that was __after__  he'd allowed his own cowardice to get the better of him and push her away. Surely, she'd been pushed away by enough people in her life. She didn't need him adding to it, especially when she'd made it abundantly clear how much she cared for him.

 _Foolish. Foolish, elf_ , he told himself. _What were you thinking?_

He knew this wasn't the time to be focusing on such things, though, as none of this would matter if he didn't get Rhanon out of here. So he swallowed the guilt for the moment and continued on, hoping he would find a clue soon.

*****

Rhanon couldn't remember her head ever throbbing this hard. She'd managed to keep enough of herself to conjure a barrier around the last remnants of her mind that the demon hadn't managed to take. From inside the barrier, she was able to see the demon standing nearby, waiting patiently for her to finally give in, to lower the barrier and succumb to the possession completely. Even now, she couldn't tell what kind of demon it was. It had the shape of one of the female desire demons she'd come in contact with, but its body was covered in what looked like a tattered robe, almost like a shade. And its arms were thin and gangly like a Terror. What the hell was this demon?

It threw a smirk at her and said, " _You really should just give in. It will hurt much less."_

She spat in the demon's direction and said, _"Su an’banal i’ma_ , demon."

The demon threw its head back and bellowed out a laugh so loud that it shook the area around Rhanon. Its violet eyes came alight, and it said, " _Do you really think there's a way out of this!? I'm already inside your head you daft girl! _"__

The demon's taunts had long since become annoying, so Rhanon shot back, "If you're so damned confident, then why haven't you taken me yet?"

The demon's brow furled and its teeth clenched as it snarled. Just as Rhanon thought, it didn't have an answer, which meant Cole had definitely gotten her message and her friends were already doing what needed to be done. She returned the beast's glare and said, "My friends and my Templars know their duty. If whatever they're trying right now doesn't work, they'll put me down without hesitation, and you'll go right down with me. You're the one who's foolish for thinking there's any way you can win."

The beast snarled again, and Rhanon flinched when it raised its bony arm and slammed its fist down on the barrier. The translucent, blue prison sparked but did not fade. Rhanon smirked and said, "Oops. So sorry. Try again."

The demon, clearly losing its cool, placed both of its open palms against the barrier and shouted, " _I will have you, bitch! Make no mistake about that _!__ "

Rhanon was done speaking to the monster and simply closed her eyes so that she could more easily focus on keeping the barrier up. If the beast was determined to keep trying despite everything, she certainly wasn't going to make its life any easier.

*****

Fenris heard the laugh. It would have been impossible not to, but it spread out so thoroughly that there was no way he could pinpoint which direction it had come from. His jaw clenched tight and his heart began to thump harder. This was taking too long. In reality, he knew he'd only just arrived, but every second he wasted was a second longer that Rhanon had to try to resist the demon. And he knew as well as she did that she couldn't resist forever.

So he started running, far faster than he had been. His lyrium sparked and increased his speed a little more until the trees around him turned into grey and green blurs. He would have kept moving at that speed until he eventually found Rhanon if he hadn't been stopped by an oddity among the already strange environment of the Fade. It was a figure, dressed in a black robe with the hood pulled up. Ordinarily, he would have immediately drawn his sword to prepare for battle, but a queer feeling washed over him that stayed his hand.

Despite the fact that he was in the Fade, where demons roam freely, he felt no threat from this figure. In fact, it was the opposite. It was completely nonsensical, but he somehow knew that whoever it was was there to help. It raised its arm and pointed a pale finger to its right as it whispered, "The Inquisitor is that way. If we hurry, we can save her."

Whoever it was didn't wait for a response and took off in the direction it had pointed. Fenris' body was moving before his mind even registered what had just happened, and as he followed the person, he felt compelled to ask, "Who are you?"

The person kept running and whispered again, "There's no time to explain."

They were whispering again. Why? Was it because they couldn't speak any other way or were they trying to disguise their voice? If it was the latter, what possible reason could they have for doing that?

He shook the questions from his mind. None of that mattered. This person clearly knew where Rhanon was, and that was far more important. So he followed the figure until it, eventually, led him to a clearing in the forest. Fenris halted at the sight of not only the demon, but also Rhanon, on her knees, inside of a blue barrier similar to the one the Templars placed around her body. The bundle of nerves that had been building in his chest since he appeared in the Fade unwound all at once, and he released a heavy breath. As soon as his eyes met hers, however, he didn't see relief in her eyes, but terror.

She climbed to her feet and exclaimed, " _Lethal'lin_!? What are you doing here!?"

Lethal'lin? She'd never called him that before. Not that it mattered. She could call him whatever she wanted as long as she was still speaking. It let him know she was still herself. He drew his sword and said, "What do you think?"

He saw her eyes mist over, and she said, " _Felasil_! Do you really think I wanted you taking this kind of risk!?"

There it was, that unyielding caring that first drove her to beg him to kill her. What a fool he'd been, trying to push away a woman who cared about him __this__  much. Had he truly learned nothing from his failures with Hawke? Well, whatever the case, he was done running. Even if it turned out she didn't want to be with him __that__  way, he would settle for being whatever she needed him to be. And that would be enough.

The demon finally spoke up and said, " _Well, hello handsome. So nice of you to join us _.__ "

Fenris readied his sword and set his lyrium alight, "You won't think it so nice in a few minutes."

It chuckled, looked back and forth between him and Rhanon, and then said, " _Unbelievable. The man who hates the Fade and anything to do with magic more than anything, jumping straight into my lair without hesitation to try to save you, my dear. I see why you like him so much _.__ "

Rhanon's eyebrows ran together when she said, "Shut up, demon!"

Fenris had heard enough, and was just about to charge when the demon said, " _Is it irony, then, that he's also the reason you're here _?__ "

There was that accusation again. What reason could this demon possibly have for blaming _him_? It didn't make any sense.

Rhanon snarled and said, "She's stalling, Fenris! Just kill her!"

The demon laughed again, louder this time, and said, " _Oh I'm ** **definitely****  stalling, but that doesn't make what I'm saying any less true_. _ _"__

She took a couple of steps toward Rhanon and went on, " _Such a powerful mage, but so strong-willed. There was no way I was getting my hands on her without help. Lucky for me, a lovely Fear demon showed her something so disturbing that it kept her awake at night for a whole week. A fatigued mind is a weaker mind, as the saying goes. And then, when she was at a vulnerable moment, you, my handsome elf, put the crack in her that I needed to finally slip inside. You made her experience something she's never felt before: betrayal._ "

Each of the demon's words cut as if they were daggers being hurled at him. Was it true? Did his attempt to push Rhanon away weaken her mind just enough for this demon to plant its roots?

" _Then_ ," the demon said. " _All I had to do was wait for another catalyst, something that would shake you up enough for me to take over._ "

Fenris had no idea what she was talking about, but Rhanon clearly did as he saw the recognition on her face before she said, "Firmin."

But he couldn't think about the boy. All Fenris could think about was how everything that was happening right now was because of him. His actions, his hurtful words, and his disregard for Rhanon's feelings were what caused this. How could he have been so stupid?

The demon then moved closer to Fenris and said, _"At first, I hated you. I could have had her long before, but you just kept cheering her up every time she would start to break. Little did I know that you would become my best friend _.__ "

The demon's claw raised, and it was about to bring it down when Rhanon shouted, "Fenris!"

He snapped back to attention and leaped away from the beast, flaring his lyrium and readying his sword again. His eyes stayed trained on the demon as it finally launched its first attack. Yes, this was his fault, but if he was going to fix this mess, he needed to take care of this demon and get Rhanon out of here. So he charged ahead, phasing through the demon and appearing behind her. He swung his sword straight down, only for the demon to dodge and fire some sort of swirling, purple spell in his direction at the same time. He didn't have time to dodge it, and prepared for impact. At the last second, however, the cloaked person from before threw themselves between him and the spell, taking the hit on his behalf and barreling into him.

They both flew back several feet, and when they both gathered themselves, the person climbed to their feet and held a hand out to him. Fenris took the hand offered, and was about to ask why they saved him when they whispered, "Stay on your toes, elf!"

They then shoved him out of the way as the demon lunged in with a claw raised. They raised their hands and conjured a thick, powerful barrier that stopped the claws and sent the demon stumbling backward. Whoever this person was, Fenris was glad to have their help and fell in beside them. Before the demon was able to charge again, Fenris' new companion set a glyph at its feet, as soon as it tried to step forward, the glyph activated and trapped its legs. The person then motioned their cloaked head in the demon's direction, telling Fenris to go.

He didn't hesitate and dove in, driving his sword through the demon with one hand and reaching into its chest with the other, trying to find its heart. However, before he was able to grasp it, the demon threw a fist into his stomach. He didn't let himself be thrown, and twisted his sword, causing a wail to echo through the air around him. He felt the demon's claws rake down his back, and he cursed himself for not bothering to put on his armor that morning.

He bit down the pain, though and continued fishing inside the demon's chest until he felt the very thing he'd been looking for. It was far larger than a human heart, but he still wrapped his fingers around it and yanked his hand back as swiftly as he could. The beast wailed for the second time, and its violet eyes widened before falling closed. Its body went limp, and Fenris jerked back his sword to allow it to fall.

Fenris took several heavy breaths, and the movement of his torso made the wounds on his back sting. He ignored it, however, and turned to the mage in time for them to say, "Nicely done."

From behind him, Fenris heard what sounded like a spark of electricity, and when he turned, he saw the barrier around Rhanon fall away. As soon as it was gone, she shot toward him and immediately took him by the shoulders as she said, " _Mythal's mercy_ , Fenris! Are you all right!?"

Her hands traveled to the sides of his head, and he could see the anxiety behind her eyes. Hoping to ease her worries, he slipped his fingers around both of her wrists and gently pulled her hands away as he said, "Yes, I'm fine. No need to worry."

"Good," she said as she yanked one of her hands back.

She then reared that hand back and slapped him across his face, causing him to stumble, temporarily, to the side. Before he was able to react, however, she took him by his now tattered coat and pulled him back, staring him right in the face when she snapped, "Don't ever do something this stupid again! Promise me you won't!"

He couldn't have been angry at her for hitting him even if he'd wanted to. Not only was he owed a few slaps, but he was far too glad to know that the demon was gone and that she was safe again. That promise, though, it wasn't one he could make because now he knew he'd go to just about any lengths if it meant keeping her safe. So he slid one of his hands up to the side of her neck and said, "No."

He meant it too. He would make virtually any promise she wanted him to make, but not that one. Her eyebrows ran together and she scolded, "Fenris!"

"No!" he repeated. "You're asking me to promise not to protect you if you're in danger. I won't make that promise. You know I won't."

Like they had many times before, they fell into silence again, their eyes staring into each other with an intensity neither of them had experienced yet. After a few more seconds, he saw the fight drain from her face, and her voice cracked when she said, "Damn you."

The cloaked mage piped up at last and said, "Sorry to interrupt, but you should probably get out of here, elf. It's not good to stay inside of someone else's dream for too long."

Fenris glanced at the mage and then back to Rhanon, who said, "It's all right, Fenris. I'll be along shortly."

He didn't like the idea of leaving ahead of her, but the demon was gone, so she was no longer in any danger. He nodded and said, "You'd better be."

She then released his coat and he closed his eyes, ready to leave this nightmare behind him.

*****

Once Fenris was gone, Rhanon turned to the cloaked mage just in time for them to say, "Ugh! Finally, I can be rid of this damned cloak!"

Only they didn't whisper this time. This time, a real voice came from the mage, a voice that told Rhanon who it was before they threw off the cloak and a pair of bright blue eyes stared back at her. Black hair, red blood swipe on her face, and a staff attached to her back. Rhanon's mouth hung agape, and her heart raced faster than it had during this whole ordeal when she said, "Hawke."

The Champion of Kirkwall smirked and said, "The one and only, well, in a manner of speaking. Technically, there's no Hawkes left now."

That answered the question Rhanon was about to ask. For a few seconds, she foolishly allowed herself to think that Hawke was still alive, but it was obvious by her words that she was just as dead as Justinia had been. Which left Rhanon wondering, what was Hawke doing here?

Hoping to get some answers, she said, "All right, Hawke. What's going on?"

The Champion placed her hands on her hips and said, "Well, after the Nightmare skewered me like a fish on a stick, I noticed something. We encountered several demons while we were in the Fade, but one of them decided it was going to follow you. It lingered between your world and the Fade, keeping an eye on you. I wasn't strong enough to fight it on my own, so I decided I'd watch it while it was watching you."

She shrugged and went on, "I figured, at some point, she would try to possess you, and I could help you fight her off. Didn't expect Fenris would come to your rescue."

Wait. Fenris. Oh, _by the Creators_. Hawke had been standing there while she and Fenris.... Rhanon's face burned, and her heart raced even faster. " _Elger'nan_ , Hawke. That....wasn't what it looked like."

Hawke raised an eyebrow and said, "Wait....you're seriously acting like Fenris is still mine?"

A quizzical look fell over Rhanon's face. "He is. The only reason he joined the Inquisition was to get revenge against Corypheus for killing you."

A warmer smile than Rhanon had ever seen from her spread across Hawke's lips when she said, "Yeah, revenge was what kept him breathing, but you're what convinced him to _live_."

 _She_ convinced Fenris to live? What was Hawke talking about? She hadn't done anything except let him join the Inquisition and be nice to him. His main motivation was always getting revenge for Hawke.

"What are you saying, Hawke?"

"I'm saying," she answered, "that it _was_  what it looked like, and that's okay."

The grin, at last, disappeared, and Hawke's face wilted. She turned her head and stared at the ground when she said, "It's not that I don't miss him because I do. It took everything I had to stay under that hood. But I'm dead, Inquisitor. I can't be with him anymore."

Hawke paused and hooked her hands together. Rhanon could see her knuckles turn even whiter from the pressure of her hands squeezing each other. After a few more seconds, she went on, "When I died, my first thought was that Fenris was going to find out, and he was going to follow me here. I don't want that for him. I want him to be happy."

She then turned to Rhanon and reached her hands out to grasp the elf's shoulders. Hawke looked directly into her eyes when she said, "You make him happy. So, it's okay that it _was_  what it looked like."

Rhanon didn't get stunned to silence very often, but right now, that's what she was. What was she supposed to say to something like that? Never in her life had she thought she would wind up having this conversation with Hawke.

The grin returned to Hawke's face and she said, "So wake up, and take care of him."

Hawke then snapped her fingers in front of Rhanon's face, and everything around her went pitch black. She couldn't see Hawke, the Fade, or anything. She desperately tried to look around and see if there was any sort of light, but there was only inky blackness. The only thing penetrating the dark was a voice, and she could just make out that it was calling her name. So she focused on it and tried to follow it to wherever it was calling her from.

*****

Rhanon was still asleep. Fenris had woken up several minutes ago and ordered the Templars to lower the barrier. Without delay, he'd hoisted Rhanon into his arms and carried her off to her quarters where she now lay, on her bed, still asleep. Why hadn't she woken up yet? What was keeping her? He knew the demon was dead. Nothing gets back up after its heart is crushed. He'd left her behind with that hooded mage. Was that mage actually a demon who only pretended to want to help so that it could get rid of competition? Somehow he doubted it, but what other explanation was there?

Finally, the waiting became too much, and he bent over the bed before placing a hand on her right cheek and saying, "Rhanon! Rhanon, wake up!"

Even if her mind didn't react to his words, her body did as her eyes began to shift under her eyelids. Her breathing became faster, and he knew he was getting through.

So he tried again. "Rhanon! Open your eyes, you daft woman!"

This time, her head moved slightly to the side, and he saw her hands start clenching into fists. She was definitely waking up. Hoping to pull her out of it faster, he repeated one more time, "Rhanon! Wake up!"

At last, after what felt like hours, her eyes opened and he could breathe again. She peered up at him and a warmth he hadn't felt in quite some time moved through his chest when she smiled and said, " _Lethal'lin, ma ane amahn_."

He didn't know what she said, nor did he care. She was alive, awake, and safe. Nothing else mattered. Before he even realized it was happening, his hands moved to grasp both of hers and he knelt beside the bed. His forehead dipped down until he'd touched it to the back of one of her hands. He was unable to stop his voice from trembling when he said, "I'm sorry."

He could hear the annoyance in her voice when she said, "Don't even start. This wasn't your fault."

While he appreciated her attempts to console him, he knew very well that he was to blame here. If he hadn't done what he did, the demon never would have taken her. So he shook his head and said, "It was."

She wiggled one of her hands free and placed it under his chin. She made him raise his head and look at her as she said sternly, "No, it wasn't. It was the demon's fault. You didn't _make_ her possess me."

"No," he answered, "But I provided the opportunity she needed."

She sat up. "And what do you think would have happened if you _hadn't_  done that? She'd still be around, prowling and waiting to pounce. This way, at least, she tried to take me while I was at Skyhold with Templars close by. Can you imagine what would have happened if she'd possessed me while I was out on a mission?"

He actually hadn't thought about it that way. Things would have been infinitely worse had the demon attacked her while she was out on a mission. She would've likely attacked whatever team was with her and they, almost certainly, would've had to kill her. The thought sent chills through his body and made his chest ache for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

He squeezed the hand he was still holding and said, "Very well, but you're at least going to let me apologize for treating you so coldly. You did not deserve that."

She sighed heavily and said, "I already know you're sorry, Fenris. What I want to know is why you did it? Did I do something wrong?"

Did _she_  do something wrong? She honestly still believed _she_  was the problem and not him? He refused to let her keep thinking that and said, "Absolutely not. The problem was with me."

She cocked her head slightly to the side. "What do you mean?"

Now came the moment he'd been dreading. He had to explain to her why he'd done what he did and remind himself that he'd been foolish enough to make the same mistake twice in his life. His eyes dropped and he said, "Something happened on that balcony at the Winter Palace. I know you felt it."

He saw her cheeks flush before she nodded. His other hand clenched into a fist and he said, "I did, too, so I ran."

He could see she was still confused as she asked, "What exactly were you running from?"

His heart, he decided, had never pounded so hard as it did when he answered, "You, Rhanon. I was running from you."

Something shifted in her expression at that moment, and, finally, the hand in his squeezed back when she mumbled, "You said my name."

That's right. This was the first time he'd said it when she wasn't in mortal danger, so this was probably, also, the first time she'd noticed. Now that her name rolled off his tongue so easily, he felt foolish for avoiding it for so long. Her eyes misted over again and she choked out, "I was afraid that you hated me."

For the first time since he'd been so cruel to her, his lips curled into a genuine smile and he said, "The moon will fall from the sky before that happens."

The mist turned to tears, and a few of them leaked from her eyes when she said, "Well then.....I forgive you."

Those three words, she couldn't begin to comprehend how much they meant to him. To know that she was still so willing to forgive him drew another feeling from him that he'd buried deeper than even the desire he'd felt on the balcony. He knew now, beyond all doubts, that what he felt for her wasn't just friendship anymore.

He didn't know if she felt the same way, and he wasn't going to ask her. Not yet. Everything was still too raw, and he didn't want to overburden her with his own feelings after she'd just been through hell. For now, he was content to sit here with her and take solace in the fact that she allowed him to.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nuva tarasyldhe re uth’su mar’veth, ma vhen'an. In uthenera na revas: "May the wind be ever at your back, my love. Rest in peace."

The following morning, Rhanon woke up, and she was more than ready to get back to work. Nothing like a demonic possession to get the blood pumping. After dressing in her leather shirt and brown trousers, she tied her hair up and headed out of her quarters. She turned to head toward the war room, but stopped when she caught a glimpse of Fenris standing near the fire with Varric. They weren't doing anything special, just talking, and yet she found herself unable to look away.

Everything they went through together yesterday, it was all so fresh in her mind that just seeing him sent her chest to fluttering. She could still see him kneeling down next to her bed, and she could still feel the warmth of his forehead pressing against the back of her hand. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable as he was in those moments, when he was practically begging her to forgive him. There was only one issue now. What did any of this mean?

"Stare any harder and you'll burn a hole through him, Inquisitor," came a voice from beside her.

She jumped from the shock and turned to find her Spymaster standing nearby, smirking. Rhanon's cheeks were burning, and she quickly gathered herself as she said, "I don't know _what_ you're talking about."

"Of course not," Leliana said sarcastically.

Hoping to draw attention away from her blunder, Rhanon asked, "Anyway, did you need something?"

Leliana shook her head. "I have just come to inform you that we have all agreed that you should take a few days of rest."

Rhanon chuckled. "Yeah, okay. Good one, Leliana."

The Spymaster crossed her arms sternly and said, "I am perfectly serious, Inquisitor. You were possessed only yesterday."

Rhanon raised an eyebrow. "Yes, _was_ , past tense. I'm perfectly capable of working now."

"I've no doubt," Leliana answered, "But ask yourself this. If one of us had been possessed, wouldn't you insist that we take some time to rest?"

Well....shit. She couldn't exactly deny that. Even so, she was the Inquisitor. She wasn't supposed to take days off just because she faced something harrowing. She'd already done that once after Jenna, and she didn't want to do it again.

So she was about to make a rebuttal when Leliana raised her hand and said, "We'll hear no more arguments. Just take today and tomorrow and we'll leave you alone. Deal?"

It was clear she wasn't going to be able to sway Leliana, so she groaned and answered, "All right, fine. _Mythal_ , I guess I see how far my authority actually goes."

Leliana laughed softly. "Oh my dear, Inquisitor. You know authority is only an illusion."

Rhanon rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't you have some spying to do?"

Leliana bowed her head slightly. "Enjoy your rest, My Lady."

She walked away then, and Rhanon was left wondering what the hell she was going to do for the rest of the day? She'd planned on working from dawn till dusk and now she had nothing but free time. She could always walk around and talk to her friends, but that would only take up a few hours at best. _Elger'nan_ , this was going to be a long day.

Well, if she was going to be forced to take a break, she figured she could start with a walk. There were probably several rooms of Skyhold that she hadn't actually seen since she'd never had time to just go exploring. She found she'd been correct when she passed through the door leading to Josephine's office and saw a door to her left that she'd never even noticed was there. Which was unbelievable. She'd passed that door nearly every single day and she'd never seen it?

Curious as to what she was going to find, she opened the door and found a long hallway that led to another door. She passed through the second door and was shocked to see a room she never even knew existed. It looked almost like one of the "drawing rooms" she'd seen at the Winter Palace. There were three fully stocked bookshelves and a sofa sitting in the middle of them. Across from the reading area was a piano and bench that looked like they hadn't been dusted in some time. Her first instinct was to leave and pretend that she'd never found the room, but she stopped.

She made a decision at that moment and approached the instrument before sitting down. Her hands shook wildly as she raised them toward the keys, and when she pressed a few of them down, her chest wrenched tightly. Once again, she wanted to run, to be as far from the instrument as possible, but she forced herself to stay put. That demon had shown her how easily her weaknesses could be used against her, so she needed to conquer this. Her fingers kept moving, and the sound cut into her, just as it had during Barris' promotion banquet, but she didn't allow herself to stop. If she could handle being possessed, she could damn well handle this.

*****

Fenris saw Rhanon disappear through the door leading to Josephine's office and was immediately concerned. He'd told Leliana and the others to convince her to take a few days off, so she shouldn't have been anywhere near Josephine's office or the war room. He didn't know why he was so surprised. Her stubborn streak rivaled his own, after all. So he followed her through the door, intent on dragging her out of the war room by her shirt collar if he had to.

However, when he opened the first door, he found the door to his left cracked. He'd never seen that particular door open before, so he thought maybe Rhanon had gone that way and not to the war room. He passed through it and saw another door ahead of him that was also partially open. From beyond the door, he heard the familiar ping of piano keys. His eyebrows knitted together and he moved quickly to the door before pushing it open. Just as he'd suspected, there she was, sitting at the piano, her fingers flowing across the keys like water through a stream.

After her reaction to the piano during Barris' promotion banquet, it was unbelievable to see her willingly playing the instrument. If only hearing one being played sent her to running away before, how was she okay with playing it herself? He found the question answered very quickly when he noticed something drip onto one of her hands. He followed the trajectory and had to hold back a gasp when he saw tears streaming from her eyes. She very clearly __wasn't__  okay.

It was so antithetical, hearing her play such crisp, cheerful music while also weeping so pitifully. He wanted to reach for her, ask her what was wrong, and try to offer some comfort like he had several times in the past, but something stopped him. She _had_  to feel the tightness in her chest and the tears streaming down her face, and yet she kept playing anyway. There _had_ to be a reason. So he stayed silent and simply listened, waiting for her to finish the song.

Her fingers kept moving, but, as the minutes went by, her shoulders grew tenser until her movements began to slow. The tears flowed faster and he heard her choke on a sob, but she did not stop. He hadn't seen her like this since finding her in the closet after Jenna, so whatever memory this music was drawing out had to be just as painful. It was difficult watching her suffer while also holding back from comforting her, but he could sense that she needed this, so he wasn't going to interfere.

When the song finally drew to a close, she slammed down on the keys just a little bit harder, indicating how much she was pushing herself to keep going. Once the song did end, though, her fingers dropped from the keys and her eyes fell closed right before she exhaled a heavy breath.

Her trembling lips parted, and Fenris felt a knot form in his throat when she said, " _Nuva tarasyldhe re uth’su mar’veth, ma vhen'an. In uthenera na revas_."

Even if he hadn't recognized the last part of the phrase as the Dalish rite for the departed, the way her voice shuddered and cracked told him that she was speaking to someone who had died. He was going to give her a few more moments before he actually approached her when she seemed to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. She instinctively turned in his direction, only to immediately look away and start swiping at the tears on her cheeks.

Now that he'd been seen, he figured it was probably okay for him to approach, so he stepped closer to her and said, "You're quite good at that."

He wasn't going to start the conversation by asking her why she was crying. If she wanted to tell him, she would. There was no reason to press her. She exhaled again and hooked her hands together before saying, "Thank you."

"So where does a Dalish elf learn how to play the piano?"

Her eyes became downcast and darted back and forth. She was clearly considering the question carefully, and if she truly didn't wish to talk about it, he would not be upset, but he wanted to help her if she would let him. After wiping the tears from her eyes one more time, she turned to him and strained to smile when she said, "Well, I suppose I _do_  owe you the story don't I?"

It took him a moment to figure out what she was talking about, but the memory came to him:

_I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you how I got this scar when you start calling me by my name._

_If I tell you about the piano, I have to tell you about the scar, and I have to tell you about what Imshael made me see. They're all the same story._

But he didn't want her thinking that she was somehow _obligated_  to tell him the story simply because she'd said that. This was clearly something that had been torturing her for some time, and she shouldn't tell him unless she really wanted to.

So he shook his head and said, "You don't have to tell me if you truly don't want to."

"No," she answered. "I want to… I think I _need_  to."

Just as he suspected. The piano playing was her way of trying to get past whatever this was, and now it seemed telling him about it was the last step. If that was what she needed, he certainly wasn't going to argue.

She pushed the bench back and got to her feet before heading for the door. She stopped in the doorway, turned back briefly, and said, "Meet me in the tower tonight. I'll tell you then. If I try to do it now, I'll just cry a lot."

He sensed she was done talking, so he simply nodded and she left, closing the door behind her. He didn't like the idea of her holding onto this for the entire day as it was clearly weighing her down, but he'd told her before that she knew her own limits. So he left through a different door, prepared to respect her desire for space until night fell.

 

*****

When the sun finally ducked behind the horizon, Fenris did as he was asked and headed off to the tower where he expected to have to wait for her. However, when he opened the door, he looked up to find her already there, sitting, back to the wall, on the only spot in the rafters that had enough space for two people. He climbed up to join her and noticed that she was staring up through the hole in the ceiling.

And, just like it did that night on the balcony, his heart beat faster as he looked at her. The way the moonlight lit up her pale face and the stars reflected off of the sapphire in her eyes was enough to render him completely speechless. He could scarcely believe his own foolishness in nearly losing a woman who made him feel this way.

He shook that thought from his head. Tonight wasn't about him. She'd asked him to join her because there was something __she__  needed, and he intended to give her his full attention. He took a seat next to her and asked, "What are you looking at?"

Her head cocked to the side and she grinned slightly. "The constellations. The Dalish believe their gods made the stars."

He peered up through the hole in the ceiling as well as she started pointing to one constellation after another and naming them off. Fen'Harell, Mythal, and Arlathan were the only ones he recognized, but when she finished he had to ask, "You said "the Dalish." Are you saying you don't believe that."

She scoffed. "I've pretty much learned to take anything the Dalish tell me with a grain of salt."

After that, she fell silent again, and her eyes dropped to the floor. She exhaled heavily and pulled her knees to her chest. Her hands hooked around her ankles and she mumbled, "Do you remember how I told you I used to sneak out of the camp when the Keeper was still asleep?"

She'd mentioned that in the tavern while she'd been telling the story about her journey to Kirkwall, so he said, "Of course."

She leaned her head on her knees and said, "Well, when I was fifteen, I snuck away while she was napping, I wandered further from the camp than I ever had before, and I came across a village."

A village? She managed to wander all the way to a human village and no one noticed simply because the Keeper was napping? That rose a question that he'd been avoiding asking her because he didn't want to pry, but he really was curious, so he said, "Your parents didn't notice you were missing?"

She shook her head. "My magic showed itself abnormally early, so I was sent to another clan's Keeper before I was even old enough to remember __them__. The Keeper was the closest thing I had to a parent."

  No parents either? It seemed the world had tried to doom her to a life of loneliness from the very start.

"Anyway," she went on. "I saw this house that was bigger than all the others, and I wanted to see what was in it. I peeked through the fence and I saw a boy about my age waving a staff around and shooting fire from his hands."

Another apostate like her. A bundle of remorse began to form in his chest as he was fairly certain he knew where this story was going.

"At first," she said, "I was afraid of him. He was a "shemlen" and I was taught that they would either try to enslave me, kill me, or call the Templars on me. But then he saw me running away from the house and asked me who I was. I still didn't have my valasllin yet, so he had no idea I was Dalish, and we just... started talking."

A smile curled on her lips. "I started seeing him as often as I could. I knew how much trouble we'd both get in if my clan or his parents found out, but he was the only person besides the Keeper who would _really_ talk to me, so I suppose I decided it was worth the risk. Then, one day, I went to his house and I walked in on him playing the piano."

She then leaned her head back to stare at the sky again. "I told him I liked it, and he offered to teach me. I was terrible at first, but he was so patient. Every time I'd mess up he'd say "It's all right, Rhanon just try again.""

She choked on the last phrase and tears started leaking from her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but he sensed now wasn't the time. After she wiped the tears from her eyes and collected herself, she carried on, "It went on that way for a while. I'd sneak out to see him, we'd hide from his parents and everyone else, and I'd sneak back into camp later. Eventually, it got to where I wasn't going to bed lonely and waking up lonely because I actually _had_ someone..... And then the camp had to move."

The tears all but stopped then, and he could see her shoulders and her jaw tense up tightly. "A couple of days before the clan was scheduled to leave, I snuck out to see him again. I finally had to tell him that I was Dalish and that my clan was leaving. He begged me not to go, but I knew I had to. It was hard enough keeping _him_  hidden from the Templars much less trying to hide _me_ , a mage _and_  an elf."

Her hands clasped together tighter. "Still, he kept begging me to stay. _We'll run away_ , he said. _Just you and me. No one will be able to turn us_ in to _the Templars if we're on our own_. I may have been socially inept, but I wasn't stupid. I knew that wouldn't work, so I told him to forget about me and I left."

Fenris was actually impressed. Most teenagers wouldn't have had the foresight to realize how nonsensical that plan was. He sensed that wasn't the end of the story, however, and kept listening.

Her eyes grew wide before she closed them and said, "Then, he snuck into my tent that night while I was sleeping. He woke me up and told me he'd stolen a bag of his father's gold and hidden it in the forest. He begged me again to leave with him, but all I could think about was how the clan's hunters would kill him on sight if they saw him. So I dragged him out of the camp and tried to take him home."

One of her hands reached up to rub the back of her neck. "But it was the middle of the night. The Keeper always told us not to go out in the middle of the night because of the wolves. Of course, the old bitch was always right, and we ran into a pack of them just outside the camp."

Her eyes flew open and he saw what he wasn't expecting to see: rage. Her jaw tensed tighter and her teeth clenched. "I was too afraid to use my magic, so I froze. The wolves came after me, and he shoved me out of the way. So....all got was a scar on my shoulder while _he_  got his throat ripped out."

Tears finally started forming in her eyes again, and her body seemed to relax a little when she said, "I'd never screamed so loud in my life. I screamed loud enough that it woke up the Keeper and the hunters came running. They fought off the wolves and the Keeper dragged me back to camp. I couldn't tell her the truth, so I lied and told her he tried to kidnap me. _Typical shemlen_ , they all said. Bloody cretins."

The tears on her face dripped down onto her legs when she mumbled, "He was the first one to die for me. The first one I-"

She choked on another sob and seemed to have reached the end of her ability to tell the story. So Fenris finally did what he'd been wanting to do the whole time, and slipped his arm around her waist so he could pull her against him. He felt her body start to relax, and she leaned in closer. Her body heat seemed to pour into him and it couldn't have felt more _right._ She truly _had_ needed this, and he was glad she'd allowed herself these few moments to let down her walls.

The parts of that story were like individual pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that explained so much about Rhanon: why she was such an insufferable flirt, why she seemed to treat the members of the Inquisition like family that she needed to protect, why she always seemed to be so _afraid_ of him leaving, and why she was so bothered by the prospect of someone dying for her.

Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and she said, "That was the first time I've been able to play that song since he died."

 _I've heard it's always the little things_. Those words echoed in Fenris' mind after that last statement from her. The little things. She'd said that to him after that first night in the tavern when Varric had been telling the story about Merrill. He hadn't even thought about that conversation until now, but he felt compelled to say, "You said,  _It's the little things_."

A small amount of red came over her cheeks and she answered, "I did."

He tightened his grip on her only slightly. "And then you said you'd never lost someone who meant that much to you."

She squirmed a little bit, and he frowned. He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, but he was genuinely curious why she'd lied about something like that.

"Yeah," she said, "I just didn't want to seem like I was trying to have a pissing contest with you. Besides, would it really have helped if I said, _I know what you're going through_?"

She altered her voice to a mocking tone when she said the last sentence, as if to show him how ridiculous it would have sounded. He saw her point. He hadn't known her for very long at that time, and he probably would have spit her empathy right back in her face if she'd tried to tell him that she understood. Such a thing was unthinkable now.

Her body was now even more relaxed, and he could no longer feel her heart pounding, so he knew she was finally calm. A smile curled on his lips as he peered down at her face. Her eyelids were drooping, indicating that she was starting to nod off. Not that he was going to _complain_  about her falling asleep in his arms.

Her head shifted slightly, and he could hear the grogginess in her voice when she asked, "Do people in Tevinter see their gods in the stars, too?"

 What an odd question. He guessed she was probably only asking it because she was so close to falling asleep and her mind was shutting down. Her head slid down his chest and eventually landed on his lap. She hardly seemed to notice, though, and it wasn't long before her soft, steady breathing let him know she was asleep. In the silence that followed, it finally occurred to him. That was it. That was the story she'd told no one else, and she'd told _him_. That level of trust, he knew he didn't deserve it, not after he'd walked away from her so easily, and yet she still gave it to him. So he knew he needed to make absolutely certain he earned it.

It was a chilly night, and he remembered how she'd covered him with a blanket after he'd fallen asleep on her balcony, so he figured now was as good a time as any to return the favor. Careful not to wake her, he peeled his black coat off his arms and draped it over her. She stirred only for a moment and then fell silent again. The cool air sent a chill through his body, but he knew it wouldn't be long before the lyrium in his skin started to react and keep him warm. As much grief as it had caused him, at least it was good for something.

The minutes went by and his eyes began to dip as well. He didn't fight it and slipped off into a dream, content to be falling asleep with Rhanon under his arm.

*****

Rhanon didn't remember falling asleep. She hated when that happened because it usually meant she passed out drunk and she was probably about to wake up under a table... or on top of it. However, when she felt something warm covering her arms, she knew that scenario wasn't likely, so she opened her eyes and it took her several seconds to register where she was. When she finally did, though, she froze. That's right. She'd been in the tower... with Fenris. Her head raised slightly and her cheeks burned when she realized _how_ she'd been sleeping. 

That was also when she noticed _what_ was draped over her. She saw it on Fenris nearly every day, so there was no way she wouldn't recognize that coat. She turned her head, planning on thanking him when she realized he was still very much asleep. And, just as she did the first time she saw him asleep, she stared on at his face intently. Only this time, the flutter in her chest was also accompanied by a warmth that threatened to make her melt.

She knew that she had Hawke's blessing, but, in those moments, she dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, it was possible for them. She knew enough about him to know that he did not trust easily, something that they had in common, but he trusted her. She knew he did because she was a mage and there was no way he'd let her be this close to him if he didn't trust her. The longer she thought about it, the warmer her chest became until she was sure she would catch on fire.

She wasn't going to find out the answer just yet, but as she moved to leave, she couldn't help feeling confident that she was right. However, before she was able to move too far, she felt a constriction around her wrist and turned her head to see his hand gripping onto it. Her eyes raised to his face, but he was still asleep. She smiled and was about to wake him when one single word left his lips that cracked her in two faster than any demon could have.

"Hawke."

At the sound of the name, her chest instantly started burning for a whole new reason, and she recognized the feeling almost as quickly as she told herself to shut it down.

 _No _.__  she told herself. _You don't get to be jealous _.__

There had never been anything "official" between her and Fenris, and even if there had been, Hawke was the love of his life, and she _died_. Of course, he was still going to be in love with her, even now. This was _not_  his fault.  _She_ was the one who started getting her hopes up when she should have known better.

Regardless, she needed to get away from him for a little while, just until the fire in her chest settled down. So she gently shook her wrist free and draped his coat over him before she leaped down from the rafters and used her magic to cushion the fall. She tore open the nearest door and bolted across the battlements to one of the other towers. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it.

She banged her head against the wood over and over as she chanted, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

What the hell had she been thinking, letting her thoughts run away with themselves like that? She had no reason to believe Fenris thought of her as anything more than a really good friend. He'd never even kissed her, so why did she let herself believe...

She shook her head and moved away from the door, only to hear what sounded like footsteps coming from her left. Had she been in a more stable state of mind, she might have heard the man much sooner, but as it was, she didn't even realize he was there until he reared back the dagger in his hand and brought the hilt down over her head.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fen'harel ver na: "Dread Wolf take you."

"Fenris! Wake up!"

The voice shook Fenris out of whatever dream he'd been having, and his eyelids peeled themselves open. The first thing he noticed was the coat draped over his arms and shoulders. He was fairly certain he'd covered Rhanon with that, not himself. Rhanon. That was the second thing he noticed. She seemed to have already slipped away.

"Broody! Get out of dreamland! We got a problem!"

Fenris poked his head over the side of the rafters and found not only Varric but Cassandra and Leliana all standing at the door of the tower. Annoyed by their shouting, he said, "I assume you have a good reason for waking me up."

"Shut up and get down here, Broody!" Varric exclaimed, "The Inquisitor's been kidnapped!"

Kidnapped… His mind lingered on that one word while his body moved on its own and he flew down to the floor of the tower. He'd only _just_ gotten her back from a demon and now she was gone _again_!? His lyrium shone bright enough to cast shadows on the wall behind his three companions, and he snapped, "How!?"

Leliana was the one to answer. "We aren't certain, but a whole group of Inquisition recruits just arrived yesterday. It's possible the kidnapper slipped in among them."

A deep snarl rumbled in his throat, and Fenris snapped, "Who took her!?"

Leliana didn't even flinch at his anger and simply said, "We don't know yet. We only _just_ discovered that she is missing. But I have agents out tracking her right now. They will find her."

That wasn't good enough. He wasn't about to leave Rhanon's fate in the hands of a bunch of scouts. He pushed past the three people and was about to head for his quarters to retrieve his sword when he saw the rest of the Inner Circle standing nearby. He was halted just long enough for Varric to say, "Hold up, elf. You can't just take off after her when we don't even know where they're headed."

Before he could answer, Cassandra also said, "Varric is right. We must wait until we know more."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew they were right, but his intense desperation to make sure Rhanon was safe overpowered all logical thought. He flared his lyrium again and started to take off past every one of them.

He didn't make it far, though, as a very large arm reached out and clothes-lined him. He felt himself falling backward, but his body never hit the ground as an equally powerful hand reached down and took him by the collar of his black over shirt. His back slammed into a nearby wall and an arm pressed against his chest, holding him there. Through his blind fury, Fenris was finally able to see that the arm holding him belonged to Blackwall, and he was momentarily shocked by how monstrously strong the man was.

The surprise faded quickly, however, and the ever-present anxiety drove him to struggle. His lyrium shone brighter, and he was very close to using it when Blackwall suddenly shouted, "That's enough, elf!"

The shouting surprised Fenris enough to make him stop struggling for only a moment, and at that moment, Blackwall went on, "I understand how you feel, I really do! But do you really think she'd want you to go charging off blindly and get yourself killed!?"

_Do you ** **really****  think I want ****more****  people dying for me!?_

Felasil _! Do you really think I wanted you taking this kind of risk!_

_He was the first....the first one to die for me._

Rhanon's words answered that question for him. Of course, she wouldn't want that. If he charged off after her like a mad bull and ran into a trap, she would never forgive him. So, as much as he hated it, he knew the rest of the Inner Circle was right. They needed more information, and they needed a plan. He only prayed the waiting wouldn't drive him mad before he was actually able to find her.

*****

The first thing on Rhanon's mind when she woke up was how badly her head was throbbing. She'd had more than enough of headaches after being possessed, so the feeling was not a welcome one. When she opened her eyes, however, she released a groan at the sight of her surroundings. She was lying on a cold stone floor surrounded by iron bars in a room lit only by two small lanterns. She didn't have any of her weapons or items because she'd been nabbed right after waking up, so she knew she was in a fairly precarious situation.

"H-Hello?" came a voice from her left.

Her hands glowed and she prepared a spell out of instinct before leaping to her feet and turning toward the voice. In a cell beside hers was a wide-eyed man with his hands raised. He wore a dirty leather shirt and black trousers, and his black hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days. She canceled the spell and said, "Hi?"

The man lowered his arms and grinned before saying, "Well, you're obviously a fighter. Good for you. You might actually get out of here."

Now that she'd determined that the man was no threat, she finally took a moment to examine the room. From the cobwebs and insane amount of dust all over the place, it was evident that the place was old and probably hadn't been used for years before her captors started using it again. Hoping the man might have a few answers, she asked, "Where exactly _is_  here?"

The man shrugged and said, "I don't know much more than you do, but I'll tell you what I _do_  know. These men are slavers from Tevinter who've, evidently, been capturing people and selling them as slaves to the Red Templars. They came and took me from my family a few days ago, and I've only seen a few of them at a time until a group of them came in with you. They weren't dressed like the others, though. They were wearing green cloaks."

Slavers selling people to the Red Templars? Well, at least she knew why she was here. They probably didn't appreciate her throwing a wrench into their plans at the Emerald Graves. Sighing heavily, she answered, "Green cloaks? Well, that explains how they were walking around Skyhold without being spotted."

The man's eyes widened and he said, "Wait... Skyhold?"

She nodded and started scanning the cell around her, looking for any sort of weakness that she might exploit, but nothing was catching her attention. The man climbed to his feet and said, "Are you...? No way... You're the Inquisitor aren't you?"

Well, he was bound to find out one way or another, so she smiled at him and said, "Afraid so, but you can call me Rhanon. What's your name?"

The man shifted his feet nervously and said, "M-Micah. My name is Micah, Your Worship."

 _Your Worship._ She supposed it really was too much to ask for someone to just use her name. She brushed it off, and said, "All right, Micah. We're getting out of here if I have anything to say about it."

She took a step closer to the bars and held out her hand right before Micah shouted, "Wait, don't!"

His warning came too late as her fingers touched the bars and her hand was repelled by a sharp jolt of lightning that sent her stumbling backward a couple of steps. Her teeth clenched and she snapped, " _Fen'harel ver na_!"

These slavers were clearly smarter than she'd given them credit for. They'd placed a ward around the cell, but the source of the power was not in the room with her so there was no way for her to disrupt it and get out. She wasn't about to give up that easily, however and held her hands out toward the bars without actually touching them. She tried to focus on the ward's magic and felt the light tingling that indicated where it was. She then moved her hands along the cell, trying to find even the slightest weakness in it that she might be able to exploit.

She could hear Micah asking what she was doing, but she ignored him and continued on until something caught her attention. There was a small gap in the ward right where the lock on the cell door was. It was probably left there on purpose so the slavers could open the door if they needed to. She smirked and knew, then, how she was getting out. She sat back down on the stone floor and pulled off one of her boots. On the inside was an item she'd hidden there for _just_  this kind of situation. She pulled the lockpick out and slid the boot back on. She slipped the pick into the lock and got to work. She knew it had been a good idea to make Varric teach her how to do this.

She felt a twinge of excitement when the lock clicked and she was able to open the door. From his cell, Micah asked, "Did you just...pick that lock?"

She smirked again and held the lockpick up between her pointer and middle finger. "They were prepared for a mage, not a rogue. Guess that'll teach them."

She then approached Micah's cage and found there were no wards around _it_  at all. Still, she didn't want to use her magic unless she had to because it would draw attention. So she tried to repeat her actions on his cell door, only to find that it wasn't working.

" _Elger'nan_!" she said, "Why won't this damned thing open?"

"Don't worry about me, Your Worship," Micah said. "You should get out while you can."

Frustrated, Rhanon discarded the lockpick and answered, "Don't be stupid. I'm not leaving you here to be sold to the Red Templars."

Trying to make as little noise as possible, she focused as much magic as she could into her pointer and middle fingers on her left hand. Starting from the keyhole on the lock, she released fire in a steady stream and moved her hand left, melting through the iron. It took far longer than she wanted it to, but she decided it was worth it to keep Micah from being used in one of those sick experiments.

Once the lock was burned off, Rhanon pulled the door open and said, "What do you say we get you back to your family?"

The man's eyes lit up and he bowed frantically, "Th-Thank you, Your Worship. Thank you."

She motioned for him to follow and said, "Don't thank me yet, Micah. We still have to get out of here."

*****

The waiting was unbearable. Several scouts had been sent out throughout the day and none of them had come back with any information yet, and with every passing minute, Fenris became less capable of sitting still. He and the rest of the Inner Circle had gathered in the War Room to discuss possible strategies, but he could not hear them. All he could focus on was the fact that Rhanon had been taken somewhere against her will and he had no idea where. Nor did he have any idea what they might be doing to her. Every bad scenario he could think of was playing through his head and it made his stomach turn. So he did the only thing he could do to keep from losing his mind, he paced.

After a few moments of him walking back and forth, however, Vivienne looked at him and said, "Really, darling, there is no reason to fret. I assure you, the Inquisitor is perfectly capable of handling herself. If she hasn't already formulated a plan of escape, she most likely will very soon."

Were it under normal circumstances, he would have welcomed Vivienne's council. Of all of the mages he'd met in his life, she was among the most intelligent. However, at that moment, her words brought him nothing but anger. Rhanon had said it herself. None of them asked her about herself. She'd never told any of them about her past. They didn't _know_ her, so Vivienne had no business telling _him_  how resourceful and intelligent Rhanon was. He already knew, far better than she did. But, he also did not wish to be rude to Vivenne for no good reason, so he kept his mouth shut and brushed off what she said. She could not comprehend the hurricane that was swirling in his chest, and he was not about to explain it to her.

Every head in the room turned when the double doors swung open and Lace Harding bolted into the room, panting heavily. She bent over, hands on her knees when she said, "We....found out where.....they've taken her."

Fenris' eyes widened and he took a step closer to Lace. "Where!?"

Once Lace caught her breath, she approached the War Table and said, "One thing, first. The trail we picked up… it was far too perfect to have been left on accident. So that leaves two options."

Leliana piped up then. "Either the Inquisitor left a trail herself or the kidnappers left it and they intend to lead us into a trap."

Lace nodded. "Although, the Inquisitor was probably unconscious when she was taken, so the latter option is more likely."

Fenris knew this information was important, but he was still far too worried to care, so he snapped again, "Where is she!?"

Lace briefly looked at him, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes, which only made him even more uneasy. 

The scout exhaled heavily and her eyes fell to the table when she said, "Remember the slaves the Freemen were delivering to the Red Tempalrs? Well, the Tevinter slavers who brought those slaves to the Emerald Graves have a base here in Ferelden. That's where the Inquisitor is."

Tevinter slavers. Red Templars. He didn't think the storm raging inside of him could get any worse, but those four words set his anger to such a boiling point that his lyrium flared and his hands started to tremble. Every person at the table glanced in his direction, and he had to hold himself back from snapping at them. The implications of this were nothing short of catastrophic. Either they planned on selling Rhanon to the Red Templars where she would be used in a sick experiment meant to replicate Danarius' lyrium ritual, or they were going to sell her as a slave in Tevinter. There wasn't a person in the room who understood the horrors of those things better than he did, and he would die before he let Rhanon endure either one.

So he placed his clenched fists onto the table and said, "Then what in Andraste's name are we waiting for!? We have to go, now!"

Unsurprisingly, Cullen said, "I agree. I can send as many troops as needed to clear the place out and rescue the Inquisitor."

Leliana spoke up again, however. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Commander, sending troops would alert them to our presence and they would likely kill the Inquisitor before we are able to reach her. It would be better to send a smaller group and slip in quietly."

The debate had only just started, but Fenris was already tired of it, so he snapped, "I don't care what the plan is, just give me one so I can go! We're wasting time!"

Leliana's eyebrows knitted together and she said, "Are you certain it's wise for you to go, Fenris? Will you be able to-?"

"You do _not_  want to finish that sentence," Fenris warned. "I am going, and you _will not_ stop me."

The room fell completely silent after that, and all eyes were on either him or Leliana. The Spymaster stared back at him and he was certain if her blue eyes could fire daggers he would be dead where he stood.

After a few moments, though, the look in her eyes shifted, and a small smile painted her lips as she said, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You leaped into the Fade after her without a second thought. Very well, Fenris. If you insist on going, how do you think we should proceed?"

He might have spared a moment to be surprised at the Spymaster's change in mood if his mind hadn't been so heavily focused on rescuing Rhanon. As it was, he _had_ been listening to the debate, so he answered, "I agree with you, Spymaster. I have known a great many slavers and they will almost always kill their prisoners if they are cornered."

Leliana smiled again, and nodded, seemingly pleased that he'd come to the same conclusion she had. From beside him, Fenris heard Cassandra say, "Then it's settled. Fenris and I will take two people into the Holding Caves to retrieve the Inquisitor. Maker willing, she will already be fighting her way out when we arrive."

Fenris didn't like the idea of Rhanon taking on so many slavers by herself, but he also knew how much damage she could do if she let go of all of her inhibitions. He could only hope that she was still there because if they'd already moved her, there was no telling how long it would take them to find her.

*****

 _Mythal's mercy_ , these caves were huge. It seemed every time it looked like she and Micah were reaching an exit, there would be another hallway leading to more rooms. If there weren't so few slavers in relation to the number of rooms, she knew she would already be running out of mana. Surprisingly enough, though, she did not see very many slavers, which was simultaneously a relief and a discomfort.

Why were there so few guards in a place this big? And where were the other prisoners? She'd seen no one else since she arrived, which gave her more and more cause to realize that something wasn't right. This had "ambush" written all over it, and if she was right, then she knew why they went to all the trouble of bringing Micah along. They had to know she wouldn't leave him, and now she was going to have to try to protect him _and_ herself.

Finally, they reached a door that looked very different than all the ones that came before it. There were remnants of a fire rune left etched into the wood, but it had long since been triggered, so there was no danger from it. Hoping it was a sign they were actually getting somewhere, Rhanon pushed the door open and was nearly knocked backward by the familiar, metallic smell that blew through the open door. Just as she'd expected, corpses littered the room, every one of them either elven or human and bearing the very red lyrium marks Leliana's scout had described. That explained where all of the other prisoners were.

She'd seen this many corpses before, but knowing that every one of them had been victims of these insane experiments made her stomach turn and her chest burn with an intense rage. It seemed, no matter what, Corypheus was always going to find a way to one-up his own depravity.

From beside her, Micah was gagging, and she knew she needed to get him out of this room before he fainted. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "I know it's a lot to take in, but we need to move. I don't fancy winding up like this."

The man's face had gone completely pale, but he still nodded and answered, "Y-Yes, Your Worship."

The two of them stepped over the corpses carefully and moved through the room toward the door on the opposite side. When they reached it, she opened it only slightly and peeked into the next room. She caught a glimpse of three slavers, two of which were archers. The third was a war-hammer wielding warrior, which was more than a little problematic. He was guaranteed to be slow, but if he managed to hit her even once, she was done for. So she silently pushed the door closed and turned to Micah. She noticed a dagger at the man's waist and asked, "You know how to use that dagger, or is it just for farm work?"

Micah glanced at his dagger and stuttered, "I-I know how to use it a little, Your Worship, but I've only ever f-fought off bandits."

It was a nice thought, but she shouldn't have been surprised. It was clear by his reaction to seeing the corpses that he was no fighter. It would appear that she was on her own. It wasn't ideal, but if she could take out the archers, it would make dealing with the warrior easier. She placed her hand back on the doorknob and told Micah, "Then you stay here. I'm gonna take care of these slavers and then we can move on. Just don't make a sound, okay?"

The man nodded frantically and said, "Yes, Your Worship. Good luck."

She exhaled heavily and cracked the door again, making sure she knew where everyone was. Sending two spells into her hands, she yanked the door open the rest of the way and launched them both toward the archers. One was frozen by ice and the other was trapped by a lightning cage. She knew she had only seconds before the warrior reached her, so she conjured a fade stone and hurled it toward the frozen archer, shattering him. She looked up in time to see the war hammer about to come down on her head, so she activated fadestep and shot to the other side of the room.

The static cage had worn off of the other archer, so she quickly formed an icicle and shot it into his chest. He spat blood before flopping to the floor. Now, however, she was faced with a heavily-armored warrior that was at least three times her size, and he wasn't as slow as she hoped he would be. She was hardly out of shape, but neither was she a rogue like Cole or Sera, so she did not have the same grace when she dodged. Every time she would move out of the war hammer's path, she would have to take a second to coordinate herself, which only gave the warrior the time he needed to close the distance again.

This wasn't going to work. She needed to hold him still if she was going to have a chance of taking him down. So she quickly placed an ice rune under her own feet and, when he approached, she leaped back. He didn't see the rune, so when he stepped onto it, it exploded and the shards of ice that weren't stopped by his armor pierced his flesh and froze his feet to the floor. Finally getting the opening she needed, she fadestepped away from him again and started channeling a fire spell into her hands. If she was going to kill him while he wore that much armor, she would need enough fire to either melt the armor or boil him inside of it. The ice rune had only seconds left before it would expire, so when she had the power she set her arms ablaze and reared her hands back.

A sharp pain in the back of her left thigh stopped her, however, and she looked down to see that the archer she thought she'd killed had driven a dagger right through her leg. She was unable to stay on her feet and released the fire in her left hand right into the archer's face as she collapsed to her knees. This was bad. The rune had already worn off, and the warrior would reach her in seconds, but she couldn't run anymore. In a last ditch effort to kill him, she released the fire from her other hand and watched as it engulfed him. He screamed from the searing pain, but he kept walking.      

 _Damn_ , she thought.

Was this really it? Was this how she was going to die? She couldn't decide if it was terrible or a godsend. At least death by war hammer would be quick as opposed to death by lyrium tattoo. The hammer raised, and her eyes fell closed as she tried to picture the only person she wanted to think of in those moments.

 _Sorry, Fenris_.

She prepared to feel the blow of the hammer only to feel nothing at all. In fact, she didn't even hear the hammer hit the ground. She opened her eyes again, and gasped at the sight of the warrior on his knees with a dagger sticking out of his neck. His lifeless body flopped to the side, revealing the culprit to be a very pale and very frightened Micah. She was about to praise him when he turned his back and emptied his stomach all over the floor. She couldn't stop herself and chuckled lightly at the man's reaction, remembering her own similar response to killing a man for the first time.

While Micah was collecting himself, she decided it would probably be a good idea to take care of the wound in her leg. So she removed the dagger and channeled a healing spell. Luckily, the wound wasn't too severe and she was able to seal it. She just hoped they didn't face too much more opposition before they got out because that battle had taken a large chunk of her mana, and she didn't have any potions.

Micah finally finished vomiting and approached just as she was getting back to her feet. A concerned look painted his pale face as he asked, "Are you all right, Your Worship?"

She gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances and said, "I'm fine, Micah. You did well."

A small bit of red returned to his cheeks and he said, "Th-Thank you, Your Worship."

She held a hand out to him and helped him stand before saying, "I should be thanking you. You just saved my arse."

His blush deepened, and he didn't say anything more. Probably for the best because they needed to get moving. She motioned for him to follow and said, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to leave."

He nodded and followed her as they headed through the nearby door and into another room that looked a little too empty for comfort.

The room was almost perfectly circular with two sets of wooden stairs leading up to the second floor, which was also made of the same wood. She was about to tell Micah to be on his guard when the sound of a door opening caught her attention. The sound came from the second floor, and when she looked up, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of not only Fenris, but Cassandra, Vivienne, and Varric passing through the doorway.

As soon as her eyes met Fenris', he called out, "Rhanon!?"

She smirked at him and said, "What took you guys so long?"

Fenris wasn't looking at her anymore, though. He was looking past her and right at Micah with a distressed look on his face that made her skin crawl. However, she wasn't able to ask what was going on before he shouted, "Rhanon! Get away from him!"

But, she didn't get to react because a fierce pain in her lower back pushed all the air from her lungs and she felt the warmth of her blood pouring down her legs. All of her strength left her, and she was on her knees in time to watch Micah walk out in front of her with a sadistic smile on his face.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dhava ‘ma masa, shemlen: "Kiss my ass, shemlen!"

What the hell had just happened?

Micah had just saved her life less than two minutes ago, but now he'd driven a dagger into her back? Why? Why save her if he was just going to kill her? She felt blood filling her throat and she coughed it up onto the stone floor in front of her as Micah snapped his fingers. From doorways Rhanon couldn't see, at least two dozen slavers filed into the room and surrounded Fenris and the others. She could still feel her blood leaking down her lower back, but there was another feeling as well. Her veins were burning almost as hot as they did when the blood mage had attacked her, which told her one thing: the dagger was poisoned.

Her eyes raised to look at Micah and she choked out, "What was the....point in any of this? Why would you....kidnap me, save me, and then.....stab me?"

Micah's hands were planted firmly on his hips when he said, "Well, if you'd have just stayed in your cell there would've been no need to save you. My men would have brought you out of your cell, stabbed you, and offered your friends the very deal _I'm_ about to offer them. But, I had to fall to the backup plan because you're so disgustingly predictable, Inquisitor. As are you, Fenris. Danarius always said so."

Danarius? This son of a bitch knew Danarius? For the second time, she lost all of her breath, and it wasn't because of the poison. The red lyrium markings on the slaves, the fact that this man knew Danarius, and the realization that this had been a trap, it all added up to mean one thing.

She shot Micah the fiercest glare she could muster and growled, "No."

The backstabber snickered and said, "Figured it out, have you?"

He turned toward Fenris and said, "The Red Templars will pay more for you than any other slave we've given them, _Little Wolf_. You're the key to their experiments finally succeeding."

 _Little Wolf_. The name sent uncomfortable chills through her body. That nickname had only been mentioned in Varric's book once, but she knew who had always used it, and it made her want to reach up and rip Micah's tongue from his mouth. And the very thought that Fenris would be handed over to the Red Templars for use in their experiments… No. She wouldn't allow it. Not ever.

From his place on the second floor, Fenris snapped, "Then why didn't you just take __me__ , Magister!?"

Magister? She'd seen no evidence of the man being a mage, but she shouldn't have been surprised. Micah might have been a bastard, but he was a good actor.

Micah's hands hooked behind his back and he continued to stroll back and forth as he said, "You saw how quickly the Inquisition rallied to search for the Inquisitor. Even if I hadn't left an obvious trail like I did with the Inquisitor, they'd have found us before we took you very far. However...."

Micah turned back toward Rhanon and knelt down in front of her. "You're in a precarious situation right now. The Inquisitor is afflicted with a slow-acting poison that will kill her if she isn't taken back to an Inquisition camp for treatment. But, I'm not going to let your little friends take her anywhere unless you come quietly."

Rhanon's already racing heart beat harder, and the anger present in her chest boiled over as she shouted, " _Dhava ‘ma masa, shemlen_! You're an idiot if you think I'm gonna let that happen!"

Micah smirked. "You have no say in the matter, my dear. I'm afraid the choice is up to Fenris."

Micah got back to his feet and turned to Fenris. "So, what's it going to be, Little Wolf? Will you let your Lady die for you?"

She tried to call out to Fenris, to tell him not to do it, but the effects of the poison were finally starting to fully set in, and all she could do was cough more blood onto the ground in front of her. Her stomach was knotted so tight she was sure that it would split open, and she was experiencing tunnel vision that made it difficult to stay conscious.

And that knotting only became worse when Fenris' voice echoed through the room and he said, "Very well, Magister."

Her vision was clouded, but she saw Fenris pull the sword off his back and hand it to Cassandra. She could see Cassandra's lips moving in an apparent attempt to stop Fenris, but Fenris shook his head and walked away from her. He moved down the wooden stairs and toward Micah, and the closer he came, the tighter the knot in Rhanon's stomach became. He was really going to do this. He was really going to give himself up to this slaver and be carted off to the Red Templars.  

Micah reached a hand out and placed it on Fenris' shoulder before turning to Rhanon and saying, "How does it feel, Inquisitor, to know that even if you get back to Skyhold and recover, by the time you're well enough to travel, he'll already be long sold? Has to sting."

No.

"Come along, Little Wolf," Micah said, "We have a long journey ahead of us."

No!

She wasn't going to allow this. She _couldn't_ allow this. She'd survived a lot in her life, but if the Red Templars got their claws into Fenris, made him their guinea pig, and she lost him forever… she wouldn't survive that. She knew she wouldn't. And that made things easy. If she wasn't going to survive no matter what, she figured she didn't have a lot to lose.

She had very little strength left, but the wood was dry and rotting. It wouldn't take much of a spark to set it aflame. Fenris might not ever forgive her, but she wasn't prepared to allow him to sacrifice himself for her, so she sent every ounce of her remaining magic into both of her hands, and launched two fireballs in either direction. The wood making up the second floor erupted in flame, and the floor beneath the two dozen slavers collapsed within seconds. At least half of the slavers caught fire, and their screams echoed through the room before Micah turned back to Rhanon with a more hateful glare than she'd ever seen and snapped, "Damn you! You knife-eared bitch!"

Knife-eared. Even now it amazed her how every human she pissed off called her that as if it had any kind of power. She was dying. Did he really think his stupid insults would bother her now? Her eyelids grew heavy, and she lost the ability to hold herself up. Her body flopped to the cold floor, and despite everything, she wasn't afraid. This gave Fenris the best chance of leaving the caves without chains, and that was all that mattered.

*****

At first, Fenris was sure he was dreaming. He'd convinced the slaver to let Rhanon go, but now the room was on fire and his companions were fighting off the slavers not caught in the flames. And, lying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood, was Rhanon. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing. Was she breathing? Or had she just given her life to keep him out of the hands of the Red Templars? He had to know, to check and see if she was still alive, but the magister was in his way. So his lyrium came alive, he reached into the magister's chest and crushed his heart. Blood splattered onto his face, but he scarcely felt it. The battle around him may as well have been happening in an alternate reality because he could neither see nor hear it. Rhanon was all he could focus on.

He knelt down beside her and placed two fingers on her neck. She was alive, but the pulse was so weak he could barely feel it. He needed to get her out of here or she wasn't going to live, so he hoisted her up into his arms as quickly as he could, and dashed past the battle around him.

He shot up the falling-apart stairs and heard Cassandra shout, "Go! Get her out of here!"

He didn't need her to tell him that. He'd have gone whether she'd told him to or not. He didn't have room in his mind to care about the well-being of Cassandra, Varric, or Vivienne, not while Rhanon was dying in his arms. All he could do was run. He ran faster than he could ever remember running. He knew where a camp was, but it seemed hundreds of miles away when he was so desperate to reach it. His legs felt like lead and his lungs ached, but he did not allow himself to slow down.

 _Stay alive, Rhanon,_ he thought _. Stay alive _.__

The trees seemed to never end. Where was it? Where was the damned camp! He had to have been running for miles by now, so where was it!? Tree after tree he passed until he came to despise them. He didn't have time. She was dying. _Rhanon_  was dying.

A clearing. He finally found the clearing. That meant the camp was...

Tents, smoke from a fire, Inquisition scouts, and the green and white robes of a healer. He was here. Every face in the camp turned to him, and when the healer started to approach, he dropped to his knees and stared up at her as he growled, "Save her!"

He felt Rhanon's body lift from his arms, and he saw her being carted off to a nearby tent, but the sight was blurred, and he had no idea why. His hands rose to his face to clear his eyes, and they came away soaked in what he now knew was his own tears. He hadn't even felt them fall.

*****

Rhanon hadn't expected to wake up. She'd been fully prepared to die in those caves, and she would have, without any regrets. But now that she knew she was alive, her mind went straight to the reason she was so willing to die in the first place: Fenris. Was he okay? Did he make it back to Skyhold? She didn't know, and because she didn't know, she needed to find out.

She pried her eyes open and recognized the room she was in immediately. It was Skyhold's infirmary. Her eyes darted about the room, but she saw no one. Hold on. That didn't make sense. The last time she was hurt, Fenris didn't leave her side. She woke up and he was waiting there for her. If he wasn't here, did that mean...? No. She couldn't have failed. She set the entire damned room on fire. There was no way that slaver got away with Fenris.

She tried to sit up and instantly discovered how little strength she had. It didn't matter, though. She had to know if Fenris was here, and, if he wasn't, she had to find him. Leaning against the wall beside the bed was a welcomed sight, her staff. It was _just_ within reach, so she took it and pressed it into the floor so she could pull herself out of the cot. Thankfully, the door wasn't far, so she limped over to it and shakily pushed it open. The sun crashed against her eyes and caused her to squint, but she didn't dare stop moving for fear of falling over. Her eyes would adjust fast enough.

She could see the servants and the Inquisition scouts staring at her as she dragged herself through the courtyard, but she ignored them. She didn't have the energy nor the presence of mind to care about what they thought. She just kept limping forward until she came upon the practice dummies, where Cassandra was hacking away like she always did. As soon as the Seeker set eyes on Rhanon _,_ though, her sword dropped from her hand and she rushed to her side.

She felt Cassandra's hand on her shoulder as the Seeker said, "Inquisitor! What are you doing out of bed!?"

She heard the Seeker's words, but she couldn't process them. She was barely holding on to consciousness as it was. So she said the only words she could form on her tongue. She stared directly into the Seeker's eyes and said, "Where is he?"

If Cassandra heard her, she gave no indication because she simply said, "Please, Inquisitor, you really must lie down. You're still injured."

 _Elger'nan _!__  She didn't have time for this. She had minutes at most before she passed out again, and she needed to know if Fenris was okay. So she raised the staff only a foot off the ground before driving it back down as hard as she could and exclaiming, " _Where is he!_?"

Cassandra's eyes had never been wider, and Rhanon could tell she was about to say something, but something else stole Rhanon's attention. A voice coming from behind her said, "Rhanon?"

That voice, like gravel and silk, only one person had a voice like that. He stepped out in front of her, and Rhanon was sure she breathed out a lung when she sighed. He was there, _right_  there, looking as beautiful as he always did. At that moment, something awakened in her that she hadn't even known was dormant, a feeling so overwhelming that she thought it would knock her out before the fatigue would. Words formed on her tongue, words she knew she couldn't say, but she wanted to more than anything.

_I love you._

He took her by her shoulders and said, "What are you doing walking around? I'm taking you back before you fall and break something."

_I love you._

The words kept trying to escape from her lips, but she wouldn't let them, and now that she was no longer overcome with worry, there was room for something else to enter her mind. That something turned out to be rage. How dare he try to give himself up to that slaver? Did he have absolutely no concept? Did he _truly_ not realize how deeply that would have destroyed her? Her eyebrows ran together and she used what little strength she had to drive her palm into his chest and push him away. He moved back only one step, and she could see the confusion on his face.

She was too angry to care, though, and said, "Oh, so _now_  you're worried about me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you on about?"

The anger was still welling up, and it drove more adrenaline through her body, giving her the energy she needed to rear her hand back and swing at him, just as she'd done in the Fade. Only this time, he saw it coming and caught her by her wrist before she was able to strike him. That only angered her more, though, and she exclaimed, "You weren't all that concerned for me when you tried to give yourself up to that damned slaver! If you had been, you _never_  would have done that!"

Her other hand released her staff before it flew forward to grab onto the collar of his tunic. She pulled him back to her and stared fiercely into his eyes when she said, "I told you before that you _don't_ get to sacrifice yourself for me! I told you!"

The anger was out now, and the whirlpool of emotions defaulted to the only feeling that remained. He'd been in untold danger alongside her dozens of times and he'd even been brutally injured on the battlefield before, but she'd never been _that_ close to losing him. The despair that came with that thought was far more powerful than the anger, and her other hand shook free from his grasp to also grip onto his tunic. Her body moved absent her own will, driven only by raw emotion when she pulled him closer to her and buried her face in his chest. Her voice cracked and tears stung her eyes when she said, " _Tel vara em. Ar isalan na_."

But she didn't even register she'd said anything at all. Her head was spinning, and the adrenaline that had been driving her was fading. However, she was still awake and aware enough to feel it when Fenris' arms raised and wrapped themselves around her. The whirlpool screeched to a halt, and her eyes fell closed as she realized that, never once in her entire life, had she ever felt safer. She hadn't lost him. He was there, and that was all she needed to know. Her body finally succumbed to the fatigue, and the last thing she heard before she passed out again was his voice saying, "Damn you, you daft woman."

*****

Rhanon's body went limp in his arms, and he moved to prevent her from falling. His left arm hooked under her knees and his right cradled her shoulders as he headed toward the infirmary. Those elven words. He couldn't understand them, but the desperation with which she said them sent chills through his body and left him dying to know what they meant. He passed through the infirmary door and placed her, gently, back on the cot. There was a chair nearby, so he placed it right next to the cot before sitting down, intending to remain nearby until she awoke just in case she decided to try to get up again.

The sound of footsteps from behind him grabbed his attention, though, and he turned to see Solas walking into the room. The mage nodded a greeting and approached the cot. He reached out a pale hand and placed the back of his fingers against Rhanon's forehead, obviously checking for a fever. He had avoided speaking with Solas as much as possible because he knew, based on what Rhanon had told him, that he and the bald elf would _not_ get along, but he would forever be grateful for his help. Even after the healer at the camp had done what she could, Rhanon still would have died if Solas had not stepped in when they returned her to Skyhold. The poison was easily cured, but the fever Solas was checking for had been the real culprit, keeping Rhanon unconscious for days.

Once Solas finished looking her over, he hooked his hands behind his back and said, "It seems we will need to keep a closer eye on her until she is well. I've never met someone as unconcerned with self-preservation as the Inquisitor."

Fenris huffed. " _That's_ putting it lightly."

Twice. This was _twice_ now that Rhanon had tried to die to protect him, and she did it without _any_  hesitation whatsoever. It was amazing to him that a woman who was so opposed to others dying for her was so quick to offer up her own life for the sake of him. But he knew one thing: he wasn't going to let her do it anymore because he realized something when he was carrying her to that camp. He'd felt such fear only one other time in his life, and that was when Hawke had nearly died at the hands of the Arishok.

However, what surprised him more than the realization itself was his reaction to it. When it first occurred to him that he felt more than friendship for Rhanon, it had sent him running in the other direction. But, for reasons he couldn't understand, he just _accepted_ that he was in love with her with virtually no trouble at all. In fact, it was less of an epiphany and more an acknowledgment of what he already knew. He knew himself well, and he knew he would not have leaped head-first into the Fade for a woman he didn't love. All that remained was ensuring she stayed alive.

However, there was still something he wanted to know, so he turned to Solas and said, "Solas."

Solas looked back. "Yes?"

Fenris briefly glanced at Rhanon when he said, "She said something in elven before she blacked out again. If I told you what it was, could you translate it?"

Solas nodded. "Of course, _da'len_. Go ahead."

Fenris searched his memory hard, trying to make sure he said the words properly so that there would be no amount of meaning lost in the translation. Once he was sure he had it right he said, "It was, _Tel vara em. Ar isalan na_."

To Fenris' surprise, Solas looked down at Rhanon and smiled, something he rarely saw the mage do. Without taking his eyes off of Rhanon, Solas said, "Are you are certain you wish to hear the translation from __me__? The words are quite… intimate."

Intimate? That was not the word he was expecting Solas to use. But, if he was to be believed, then Fenris knew there was no way Rhanon would ever translate it herself. In fact, she'd probably just deny she'd ever said it and try to deflect with sarcasm.

So he nodded and said, "I'm certain."

Solas continued to smile as he answered, "Very well, _da'len_. The simplified translation is: 'Don't leave me. I need you.'"

Had he not just witnessed Rhanon's second attempt to give her life for him, Fenris might have been surprised by the words. However, all the words did was confirm what he already knew to be true. Even if she never admitted it, and there was a good chance she wouldn't, Rhanon loved him as well. She had to. He knew how much she hated appearing vulnerable in front of others, and her actions in the courtyard made her look more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. There was no way she would allow herself to show such weakness for someone she considered only a friend. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to accept that he'd fallen in love with her, he knew there was no pretense of it being unrequited.  

Solas turned his head away from Rhanon and said, "Now, I will take my leave, because if the shifting of her eyes is any indication, she is about to wake. And I'm sure you two have things to discuss."

Solas left without another word, and Fenris looked down at Rhanon's face just in time to see her eyes open. They fell on him immediately, and his mind shifted away from the conversation he'd just had with Solas and his only concern was making sure she was okay. Both of his hands flew to the sides of her head and although he knew she probably no longer had a fever, he checked anyway. The second thing he checked was her pulse, as the poison had given her an irregular heartbeat.

After a few seconds, however, she seemed to get annoyed as she reached up to pull his hands away and said, "Fenris, I'm fine."

He was done looking her over anyway, so he answered, "Yes, no thanks to you."

Her eyebrows raised and she said, "What?"

"Just what were you thinking, lighting that room on fire?!" he snapped.

She scoffed as she sat up. "What were _you_ thinking trying to give yourself up to that slaver!?"

"I was trying to save your life!"

"And _I_ was trying to save _yours_!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head before replying, "I might have escaped from the Red Templars, Rhanon! You have no idea how close you came to dying from that poison!"

She glared at him. "That wasn't a chance I was willing to take."

He released an exasperated sigh and leaned back in the chair. He shook his head again and said, "You damned hypocrite! You spend so much time telling everyone not to die for you, but you are willing to throw your life away for me without a second thought! Did you ever consider that I might not want _you_ dying for _me_ either!?"

For only a moment, the resolve on her face faltered. That thought had, clearly, never even crossed her mind. It absolutely pained him how little value she put on her own life, especially now that she had come to mean so much to him.

Their eyes met again and the resolve returned to her face when she said, "It doesn't matter what you say, Fenris. If it comes down to you or me, I'm going to pick you, _every time_."

He snarled in absolute frustration. Impossible, infuriating, daft, woman. He wanted to shake her until she stopped being so damned apathetic about her own well-being. However, at the same time, he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. Only _she_  could draw such contradictory desires out of him.

He decided, for the time being, he would settle for taking her hand, and he answered, "I know that. It's one of the things about you that drives me absolutely mad. But you're a fool if you believe I will ever allow it."

He saw the hesitation behind her eyes, and she said, "Fenris...."

"No, Rhanon," he interrupted.

His other hand reached up to rest on the side of her neck. "You surrendered the luxury of giving your life for me when you walked into my arms on that balcony. I can no longer bear the thought of anything happening to you."

At the mention of the balcony, the look on Rhanon's face shifted to one nearly identical to the one he'd seen that night, right before he'd nearly kissed her. Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted just barely. And, just as he had on the balcony, he felt the invisible hand on the back of his head driving him forward. Only this time, he wasn't going to bother trying to resist it because he knew he _couldn't_ , even if he wanted to. His hand moved from her neck to the back of her head, and his lyrium sparked from her hair sliding between his fingers. He could feel her heart racing, and that told him everything he needed to know so he moved to finally do what they both wanted.

At the last second, however, the look in her eyes shifted to something completely different, and before he was able to close the gap, she turned her head. Her eyes fell to the bed, and she shrugged his hand off of the back of her head. A questioning look painted his face as he said, "Rhanon?"

She said nothing, and when he studied her face, he soon found out why. Her expression told the story of the war she was currently having with herself, and he couldn't imagine why. With her lips seemingly sealed tight, he wasn't likely to find out, either, so he simply leaned back in the chair and decided it was possible he'd misread her signals. It didn't matter either way. As long as she was alive and he was able to be by her side, that was more than enough.  


	25. Chapter 25

_Work, work, work._  That was what Rhanon kept chanting to herself as she stood at the war table, in order to distract her mind from thinking about what had almost happened between her and Fenris. His tender words had caught her so off guard that when he'd tried to kiss her, she'd almost let him. Pulling away was the hardest thing she'd ever done, akin to turning away a cool mug of water when she was absolutely parched. She'd never wanted _anything_ like she'd wanted that kiss, but she just kept hearing that word over and over.

 _Hawke_.

No matter how much she wanted him, no matter how much he might want her in return, there was no way around it: he was still in love with Hawke. He probably always would be. There were a lot of things she was willing to endure for him, but the one thing she would _not_ endure was being second-best to _anyone_. And if that meant she had to spend the rest of her days loving him from a distance, that was what she would do. As much as that might hurt, it would hurt far more to give in only to discover later that he didn't love her anywhere near as much as he'd loved Hawke. She'd faced far too much rejection in her life already, and a rejection like that, from _him_  of all people, might well destroy her.

"Inquisitor?" came the inquiring voice of Morrigan.

Rhanon shook the thoughts from her head and answered, "I'm sorry, Morrigan."

The magical adviser did not appear to be irate, however, and answered, "It's quite all right. I'm sure you have much on your mind. I was saying that your Inquisition now has all of the resources it needs to make the journey to the Arbor Wilds, when you have fully recovered, of course."

Rhanon smiled at her. "Good. It's been way too long since I've been out on a _real_ mission, but before any of that, I want to know if the rest of the slavers have been dealt with."

Leliana bowed her head slightly and said, "Of course, Inquisitor. Micah may have been a proficient actor, but he was not particularly adept at choosing bases. My agents had no trouble finding them all and putting them out of commission"

Good. That was one less thing for her to worry about. The last thing she needed was those damned slavers deciding to have another go at trying to nab Fenris. That meant she could focus on Corypheus and putting a stop to whatever plans he had for the Temple of Mythal.

So she said, "All right. Then our next course of action is to march on the Arbor Wilds. I've been asked to give it at least another two days before I go anywhere, so prepare to march in two days."

Josephine smirked and said, "What she _really_ means is that Fenris threatened to chain her to her balcony if she dared leave any sooner."

Rhanon's face burned and she put on the best sarcastic smile she could muster when she said, "I seem to recall, Ambassador, that you have a meeting with a high-ranking noble from Val Royeaux scheduled for today. It would be a shame if someone told Sera."

The smirk on Josephine's face vanished in an instant, and Rhanon chuckled before saying, "Don't play with fire if you don't want to get burned, Josephine."

After the rest of her advisers finished laughing she dismissed them and decided she was ready for a drink. It had been quite some time since she'd had one.

*****

It had been a few days since he'd almost kissed Rhanon, and the more Fenris thought about it, the less sense it made. He couldn't claim to be an expert in the "relationships" department, but he thought for sure that he knew enough to be able to tell when someone had romantic feelings for him. He'd been with Hawke for years, he'd seen the signs, and he knew the signals. Rhanon had exhibited every sign and given off every signal, so he was certain that he knew what she wanted when he moved to kiss her. Now, though, he was questioning everything he'd ever thought. Were there never any romantic feelings, and had he simply made it all up in his head? It was possible, but it seemed highly unlikely since it had been obvious to him that she was struggling within herself. If she felt nothing for him, would she really be struggling so? He thought not. And if she __did__ want him, why would she say no when he'd made it perfectly obvious that he wanted her?

It was coming up on nightfall, so he decided now was as good a time as any to grab a drink. If anything, it might dull his senses enough that he could stop thinking about this for a while. He stepped into the bar and found Varric sitting at the same table he always sat at, putting back what was probably his fifteenth mug of ale. He took a seat at the same table and Varric gave a half-hearted wave while he was in the middle of downing another shot. The dwarf put the cup down right as Lara appeared with what she knew was Fenris' favorite ale. He placed a sovereign in her hand in advance, like he always did, and finished the first round in only a few gulps.

Varric released one of his knowing chuckles and said, "All right, what's going on?"

Fenris raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think anything's going on?"

Varric crossed his arms. "I've spent the majority of my life in taverns, Broody. People drink differently if they're just drinking to relax than they do if they're drinking to forget something. You're drinking to forget something."

Damn the dwarf and his infuriating attention to details. Fenris would not crack that easily, though, and said, "It's nothing."

Varric sighed heavily. "I hate it when people say "It's nothing" when it's obviously _something_. Just spit it out, already. Is it the Inquisitor? You two having more problems?"

The Inquisitor? _More_  problems? Just how much did the pestering dwarf know? Fenris' eyebrows ran together and he said, "How do you know about that?"

Varric laughed again and took another drink of his ale. "You have got to be joking. Every person in this keep knows you're crazy about each other. We were just wondering when the two of you would figure it out."

Fenris rolled his eyes and was fully prepared to dodge Varric's questions for the rest of the night. So he took his next drink from Lara and threw it back almost as quickly as the first one.

"Come on," Varric said. "When have you known me to back down when I _really_ want to know something?"

Fenris groaned. Why was the dwarf so damned interested in what was going on with him and Rhanon? He didn't remember him ever being this nosey when Hawke had been with him. Hoping to get him to drop it, Fenris simply said, "I don't know how to explain it, dwarf."

"Just tell me what happened," Varric said. "It doesn't have to be complicated."

 _Fasta vas_. It was clear, at this point, that he was going to get no peace until he talked. Whatever. Perhaps the dwarf _could_ offer a different perspective. It wasn't as if he could make things worse. Choosing his words carefully, Fenris said, "When I was with Hawke, I noticed certain.....signs that let me know she was interested. Rhanon is showing those same signs, and yet she's pulling away, so I'm unsure if she's actually interested."

To Fenris' surprise, the dwarf didn't laugh or even make a snide comment. Instead, he said, "Well that's your problem right there, Broody. You're looking at the Inquisitor through the same lens that you looked at Hawke through. They're two completely different people."

"I'm aware of that," Fenris answered, "but they _are_  very similar."

"Obviously," Varric said. "But let me ask you this. What did Hawke have that the Inquisitor doesn't?"

A great many things, Fenris ventured to guess. And Rhanon had many things Hawke didn't. He wasn't sure what Varric was getting at, so he shrugged his shoulders. The dwarf covered his eyes with his hand and said, "Try 'a loving family and lots of friends.' The Inquisitor didn't have _anyone_  before she became the Herald."

Fenris was far more aware of this fact than Varric or anyone else at Skyhold, but he really wished the dwarf would get to the damned point, so he snapped, "What are you saying?"

"Maker's breath, Broody," Varric said, "Do I have to paint you a bloody picture? She didn't have very many meaningful connections growing up, so she's got trust issues. That means she's gonna be wary of starting anything serious. You just need to keep up the pressure and show her that you're not gonna double-cross her. That's it. As the metaphorical "King" of trust issues, I'd think this shit would be obvious to you."

The cogs inside Fenris' head clicked into place and he realized how blind he'd been. Of course, she would be wary. She'd been alone for a good portion of her life, just like he had, and it took him _years_  to finally trust Hawke enough to enter into a committed relationship with her. Rhanon had known him for only a fraction of that time, and he'd only served to exacerbate any doubts she might have had by walking away from her like he did. She wasn't uninterested. She was afraid, and the fact that he'd given her extra cause to be made him sick to his stomach.

Varric took another drink of his ale and said, "Have your epiphany yet? Because if you have, you might just be about to get your chance to act on it."

The dwarf then pointed to the door of the tavern, and Fenris turned to see Rhanon walk in. She smiled at him, and a familiar weakness moved through him at the sight of it. He had no idea when that smile started drawing such a reaction out of him, but he was sure that it would for the rest of his life. He'd been apprehensive about everything before speaking to Varric, but now that he was fairly certain that he knew what was happening, a new-found confidence welled in his chest, and he stood from the table. He handed another sovereign to Lara and waved to Varric before approaching Rhanon.

She waved to him and said, "Hey, Fenris. Did I disturb your drinking?"

He half smiled and shook his head. "I'm glad you're here, actually. I have something to show you."

She smirked. "Oh yeah? What's that."

He held out his hand and said, "Come with me."

She seemed to hesitate at first, but she eventually slid her hand into his and he led her out of the tavern. The tension in the air as he led her to their destination was overpowering. He could tell that she knew something was going on, but she said nothing, either out of confusion or nervousness. He led her up the battlements and to their tower, stopping when he opened the door and pointing up.

She turned her eyes toward the rafters, and he saw them go wide when she said, "You added a proper floor?"

He nodded and released her hand before moving to the wall and climbing up to the newly-built floor. She followed close behind him and he pulled her up the rest of the way when he finally set foot on the baseboards. He moved to the middle of the room and sat down, leaning back and onto his elbows so he could stare out through the still-broken ceiling. But she remained standing and asked, "When did you do this?

It was obvious that she was stalling, but he humored her anyway and said, "While you were recovering. I didn't foresee us finding a new meeting place."

She still didn't sit down, however, and asked, "What's going on, Fenris?"

He should have known he wouldn't be able to convince her to come up here without being at least a little bit suspicious of his motives. However, he had no intention of rushing things or pushing her to do anything she didn't want to do. So, hoping to ease her worries, he said, "You asked me once if the people of Tevinter see their gods in the stars. Well... they do."

Her attention was piqued and she finally sat down beside him, mimicking his sitting position and peering up to the sky. Just as it always did, the moonlight danced across her eyes and lit up her pale face. As much as he wanted to reach for her right now, to do what he'd been dying to do since the Winter Palace, he knew he needed to be patient. So he held himself up with one arm and raised the other up to point at the sky.

"That cluster over there is the Black Divine," he said. "The top forms his ridiculous hat and the ones at the bottom are the ends of his robes."

He stole a glance at her face and saw her eyes shifting as she tried to piece together what he was showing her. When he saw the recognition, he moved his hand in another direction and carried on, "That cluster there is Andraste. The stars that fan out to the sides depict the fire of the stake."

While she was scanning the stars, she responded, "I'm surprised Tevinter allowed Andraste to be in the constellations. Don't they hate her up there?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "The Dalish aren't too fond of Fen' Harel either, as I recall."

She giggled. "Touche."

He grinned in response and shifted his hand to the right before going on, "And that cluster is Archon Hessarian. The stars to the right that stretch out in a perfect row form the Blade of Mercy."

She followed his hand, but he didn't see the recognition appear on her face as before. She squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side, "All right, I guess I must be going blind because I don't see that one."

He chuckled and reached his hand out toward her. He slipped it around to the opposite side of her body and pressed two of his fingers against her left cheek before gently nudging her head in his direction. Once she was close enough to see from his angle, her eyes lit up and she said, "Oh! I see it now. _By the Creators_ , how did I miss that?"

His skin tingled from her closer proximity, but he continued to hold himself back. It wasn't the right time yet. His hand was about to move on to the next constellation when the air in the room suddenly changed. Only seconds ago, she was goofing off like normal, but something shifted, and he could sense a weight had come over her. He turned to look at her, and the smile had vanished from her face. He immediately reached for her and placed his hand against the back of her head, right under the bun, before saying, "Rhanon? What is it?"

He could almost feel the goosebumps appear on her skin when she moved away from his touch and sat up, pulling one of her knees to her chest and hooking her hands around her ankle. "It's just nerves. This battle... so much is riding on it."

 As sincere as she was _trying_  to sound, she was doing nothing more than giving off even more of those signals he'd come to recognize. She either didn't realize she was doing it or she was doing a _very_ poor job hiding it. Hoping to draw out the truth, he asked, "Of course, but how is that any different from the battles you've already been through?"

He watched her cheeks flush red and her eyes fall to the floor, the exact reaction he was expecting. As much as he disliked Cole, he wished he had the boy's talent for helping people. If he had Cole's abilities, he could easily convince Rhanon she had nothing to fear. For now, he would have to settle for what he _could_  do, so he said, "So do you want to tell me what's _actually_  bothering you?"

She tensed up and tightened her grip on her ankle. "No."

The answer didn't sound even remotely sincere. She was trying very hard to keep her walls up. It would have been impressive if it wasn't so depressing. He scoffed and said, "You're lying."

She huffed and turned her face away. "Shut up. Don't talk like you know what I'm thinking."

She was trying to deflect with hostility. An obvious tactic, one he'd used himself many times. He would not allow it. If she wanted to try to close the door, he would just have to hold it open and "keep up the pressure." So he moved closer to her, reaching his arm out to wrap around her waist. Her whole body fell instantly into trembles, and he reveled in the pride of knowing she was reacting that way to _his_ touch.

Immediately, she started wiggling in a half-hearted attempt to get away from him. As frustrated as it made him, he couldn't help but be amused at the same time. Was this how Hawke had felt when he just kept running away no matter how hard she tried to convince him to stay? It wasn't fun being on the receiving end of it, but it also put him in a much better position to understand what Rhanon was going through. He knew how it felt to fall this hard for someone, to feel the consuming need for them only to have it outweighed by the crippling fear of trusting someone else that much. And it had to be particularly harrowing for Rhanon after he'd abandoned her.

He wasn't going to back down, however, and said, "Stop running. I think I've done enough of that for the both of us."

His fingers traced their way up her side and slid across her shoulder. He placed his hand softly against her cheek and made her turn her face back to him. He met her eyes and didn't break the gaze even long enough to blink. Her cheeks were still patched with red and he could see the anxiety behind her sapphire eyes. The continuing war with herself was plain on her face, one side of her wanting desperately to give in and the other fighting to hold her back, and he hated it. He wanted her to let go, and he knew she wouldn't do it on her own, so he leaned in. Had he seen even a hint of doubt or fear behind her eyes, he'd have stopped immediately, but he saw what he saw the first time he tried to kiss her. She wanted him, and he wanted her just as much. He was close, so close that he could feel her breaths on his lips, but, just like before, she turned her face.

Her eyes slammed closed and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as the trembling in her body intensified. Her heart smashed against her chest so hard that he could feel it from his hand's position on her neck. His eyebrows ran together, and he released a frustrated sigh. His hand fell back down to her side, and his tone was utterly exasperated when he said, "Rhanon...."

She shook her head. "Fenris, this... can't happen."

He wasn't sure what lies she was telling herself to make her believe that she meant what she was saying, but he knew she didn't mean it, so he simply asked, "Why not?"

Finally, she pulled away from him completely and stood up, turning her back to him as she said, "You ever heard the saying, _Once you've had the sweetest chocolate, no other chocolate that comes after it tastes quite as sweet_?"

All at once, the pieces fell into place and he realized that Varric had been absolutely correct in his assertions. Her anxiety about recognizing what she felt, the hesitation with which she allowed him to get closer to her, and her absolute refusal to give in no matter how much she was dying to have him, they all made sense now. Of course, she'd come to the same conclusion he'd come to that night on the Winter Palace balcony. She was afraid that she was nothing more than rebound, that he didn't love her as much as much as she deserved to be loved. And he couldn't blame her. He'd held similar doubts before, so her fear came from a very real place, and he knew he needed to act fast to relieve her of it.

So he stood as well and walked up behind her, stopping less than a foot away and saying, "Hawke is dead, Rhanon. She _has_  been for a while."

She threw her clenched fists down to her sides and exclaimed, "It doesn't matter!"

He heard her choke on a sob, and she seemed to crumple in on herself when she carried on, "You loved her so much that you were willing to cross a continent just to punch me in the face for letting her die. And you _still_ love her, even now."

Though he'd expected it to, none of what she said sounded like an accusation. She was simply stating what she knew to be the truth, and he couldn't say she was wrong. As far as he knew, Hawke was his first real love, and he didn't think there would ever be a time in his life when he would stop loving her. But if that were the case, what could he possibly say to Rhanon now?

He saw the tears drip from her chin when she said, "And I'm not blaming you for that. I understand. She was the love of your life. You're not _supposed_ to stop loving her, but...."

She hugged herself tightly, "You don't understand what it's like knowing that, no matter what, I'm _always_  going to be second-best. No matter how much I love you, you're _never_ going to love me as much as you loved her."

Her knees shook before they finally gave out and she collapsed to the floor, still gripping onto herself as she said, "And why would you? I can't even hold a candle to her."

_I can't even hold a candle to her._

Those words sent a jolt of protectiveness through Fenris that was so strong, he immediately took her by her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. He spun her around, backed her up until she was pinned against the wall, and grasped onto her hips, preventing her from running. The lyrium in his skin illuminated her face and reflected off the tears staining her cheeks, tears he knew were because of him. He wanted them gone, along with the despair that had taken hold of her, so he looked her right in the eyes when he said, "I'm going to say something, Rhanon, and I need you to believe me."

One of his hands traveled up her body and rested on the side of her neck. He felt her skin shudder at the touch. "You are _not_ second-best."

A quick flash of acceptance moved over her eyes, but it was quickly stamped out, and she shook her head pitifully. "Don't say that, Fenris. You can't honestly stand there and tell me that you love me as much as you loved her."

He didn't hesitate and responded, "I can, and I _am_."

He felt it as quickly as he'd felt her initial twinge of despair. At that moment, something snapped in her. He wasn't sure what it was or what consequences it was going to have, but he knew one thing: it was intense. She stared back at him for long seconds that cut through him quicker than any blade could have. He absolutely longed to know what she was thinking, to know if his words had reached her the way he wanted them to. But the seconds dragged and dragged until the look in her eyes shifted to something entirely new.

At last, she reached out to touch him, resting both of her hands on his chest and leaning her forehead between his collarbones. Her fingers gripped onto his shirt tightly and her voice shook as she said, "Damn you. You son-of-a-bitch. Damn you."

Just then, with her holding onto him and cursing him for forcing her to admit what she felt, it was finally the right time. He knew, beyond any doubts, that she would not pull away again, so he took hold of her cheeks with both of his hands and pried her forehead away from his chest. He let one of his hands fall back to her waist but slipped the other one behind her head. He removed the hairpin holding the bun together and watched her flowing red locks spill out onto her shoulders before finally moving in again.

Just as he thought, she didn't pull away, and when their lips finally came together, she released a sigh of relief so powerful that it seemed to echo through the room. Every inch of lyrium on his body came instantly alight as a satisfied moan leaked from his throat. At last, the waiting was over.

*****

As soon as Fenris admitted that he loved her, Rhanon knew she was going to finally give in, but she could scarcely believe how insatiable she became as soon as he kissed her. She'd been kissed only one other time in her life, and it had been anxious, distant, and brief, whereas Fenris' kiss had been so powerful that he almost seemed to suck the air right out of her lungs. The sheer, overwhelming need that followed it, she'd never known its equal, so she could only compare it to hunger. And that comparison proved to be appropriate when she gasped at the introduction of his tongue brushing across her lips gently.

She couldn't have said no even if she'd wanted to, and she _didn't_ want to. So she parted her lips and let him in, only to be overcome by the sensuous feeling of him exploring the inside of her mouth. She knew she needed to breathe, but she couldn't remember how. She wasn't just _feeling_  him now, she was _tasting_  him, which brought with it an intimacy she'd never experienced. She'd heard the phrase "lose yourself in a kiss," but only now did she truly understand what it meant. Every movement of his lips sent electricity from her head to her toes, and her body reacted before she even realized it.

Her hands moved to push off his coat, and he responded in kind, allowing her to relieve him of the garment. That left him with his black tunic, which her hands reached for just as quickly. She knew what she was starting by doing this, but she didn't have the presence of mind to hesitate. All she had was the raw, unfiltered need for him that drove her forward, so she followed it and removed the tunic. A feeling closely resembling weakness washed over her at the sight of his exposed skin, and her hands trembled as she raised them to touch him. She didn't press down but merely brushed his skin with her fingertips, which caused the lyrium to come alight again.

The sight drew out another desire she didn't know she had, and she pulled him back in for another kiss. Only this time, she hooked her arms around the back of his neck and threw her body weight backward, dragging him down on top of her. Had her head not been so thoroughly devoid of thought, she might have been shocked by how forward she was being, but such trifles were overpowered by the feeling of his bare skin pressing down on her. An approving groan leaked from Fenris' lips, and she felt his hands reach for the buttons on her leather shirt.

That action snapped her back to attention and reality finally set in. He wanted to see her, too. Of course, he did. Her mind had been so clouded by the haze that such thoughts hadn't even crossed it, but now that they had, the anxiety she'd been missing reared its head. Showing Fenris her body would make her more vulnerable than she'd ever been in front of him, and the thought made her tense up so tightly that she thought she might crack. What if he didn't like what he saw? Hawke had been so voluptuous, but Rhanon was thin and her curves virtually non-existent. There were few things in her life that truly terrified her, but the thought of Fenris looking at her and being dissatisfied with what he saw… she didn't think she could recover from that.

He seemed to notice immediately and stopped what he was doing before saying, "Rhanon? What's wrong?"

Her heart was thumping so fast it sounded like a drum roll, and the heat in her cheeks threatened to set her face on fire. Stupid. This was so stupid. She'd faced down demons, darkspawn, dragons, and every other manner of vicious creature with little to no fear, but right now, she might as well have been a whimpering child. She hated it, and she hated even more that she had to explain it to him.

Her eyes met his, and she mumbled, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just..."

 _Elger'nan_! Why couldn't she just say it? It wasn't as if it was something to be _ashamed_  of, but it just felt so childish that the words caught in her throat.

The sudden feeling of his hand moving through her hair relieved a small amount of the tension, and she thought she might faint when he said, "Don't be afraid, Rhanon. You are _beautiful._ "  

For the second time, she forgot how to breathe, and her lips moved to capture his again before she even realized she'd decided to do it. _By the Creators _,__ she loved him. She loved him more than she'd ever loved anything. With only seven words, he'd banished the anxiety and re-awakened the spark that it had put out earlier. So when his hands moved to open her shirt again, she didn't flinch, and instead reveled in the slow burn his fingers were leaving on her flesh. She was momentarily disappointed when he broke the kiss but was immediately thrown back into ecstasy when his head lowered and his lips ghosted over the newly-exposed skin. At the introduction of this new stimulus, an ache developed in her lower body that caused her eyes to fly open and her hips to rise and grind against him. A powerful moan echoed in Fenris' throat, and she saw his muscles tighten.

She wasn't sure when her trousers came off, but she knew they must have because she could feel the cool night air biting her skin. It was nothing, however, compared to the overpowering wave of euphoria that moved through her when his lips traveled down again, his breaths tickling the skin right below her abdominals. She was certain that the world stopped turning in those moments because she could think of nothing else other than the tightness that was winding up in her body with every movement of his tongue. She knew _what_  was happening to her, she just never dreamed it would be this intense, this overwhelming. She could hear herself moaning as she fisted wads of his hair, although she had no idea how loud she was being. Nor did she care. All she _could_  care about was the wild need for a release from the tension Fenris had built up inside her over the past several minutes.

Her feet lifted from the floor and her calves pressed against her thighs as her abdominals clenched tighter than they ever had. She reached the apex and stayed there for several long, agonizing seconds before the string finally snapped and a powerful rippling sensation moved outward from Fenris' lips until it covered her whole body. The rest of her senses seemed to shut down, and all she could do was feel. When he raised his head again, she twitched at the feeling of his fingertips trailing from her ankle, to her calf, until eventually moving up her thigh and to her side. It was as if her sense of touch had doubled because his fingers left goosebumps in their wake as they moved and she released another quieter moan in response.

She expected him to let her come down from the high before doing anything else, but he positioned himself between her legs and took her right then and there, his lyrium flaring brighter than it ever had. It hurt. _Mythal_ , did it hurt, but when she saw the sheer bliss appear on his face and heard the cry of rapture that dripped from his lips, a pride burned in her chest that far outweighed the pain. She hooked her legs around him and gasped when he looped his arm around her back and pulled her into a sitting position. Through the veils of red and white, their eyes met, and she was sure her heart would stop when she saw how he was looking at her. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch, and her heart pounded harder as she realized that this was the first time in her life she felt _legitimately_  beautiful.

So she did the only thing she could think to do. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. There weren't words enough in the world to describe how incandescently happy she was, so she poured everything she had into that kiss and hoped the feeling would reach him. One of his hands snaked its way up her back and his fingers entangled in her hair while his other hand pressed between her shoulder blades in an apparent attempt to close what little space was left between them. Their chests came together, and she was certain he could feel her heart pounding just as she could feel his.

She'd spent so many years of her life alone, never knowing how it felt to be truly complete. But sitting here, with Fenris, and making love to him in the place they'd made their own, she felt as if she'd found a part of herself that she never knew she'd lost. He was everything she needed, a cool drink of water after a long trek through the desert, a warm cabin in the middle of a blizzard. And she knew, as long as she had him, there was nothing she could not endure. So she held onto him and allowed herself these few moments of not giving a damn about anything else in the world.

*****

The sunlight shone down through the hole in the ceiling and woke Fenris from what was probably the most restful sleep he'd had in years. He felt a weight on his chest and abdomen, and when he opened his eyes to look down, a smile curled on his lips at the sight of Rhanon curled up next to him and sleeping with her head on his chest and using his coat as a blanket. He moved his arm to wrap it around her and reveled in the heat her skin gave off. His movements, evidently, jarred her enough to pull her out of her slumber as she raised her head and peered up at him with sleep-filled eyes. If he could have stopped time just for a little while so he could live in that moment, he would have because, right then, everything was perfect.

She smiled back at him and said, " _On dhea, ma vhen'an_."

 _Ma vhen'an_. He didn't know what the first part meant, but he recognized the second part, at least, and that was the only part he cared about. He didn't offer a verbal response, and instead brought his hand to the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss that he hoped would communicate how unrealistically happy he was in that moment. Her hand trailed its way up his chest to his head, and his hair slid through her fingers as she stroked his scalp and elicited a satisfied moan from him. Yes. Absolutely perfect.

She pulled back from the kiss and playfully poked him in the chest as she said, "You realize what this means, right?"

He cocked his head slightly to the side. "That I'm stuck with you?"

She groaned before laying her palm flat on his chest and placing her cheek on the back of her hand. "Evidently, I'm becoming too predictable. I need to up my game."

His fingertips stroked the silky, bare skin on her back as he said, "Good luck. I know you fairly well, now."

They didn't say anything for several long minutes after that, but he was perfectly content to lay there with her for as long as she wanted him to. So he continued to run his fingertips up and down her back as she went back to stroking his scalp. He was nearly fully relaxed again when he caught a glimpse of something on the floor next to them. Was that....blood? No. Why would there be blood on the floor? Neither of them was... And then he figured it out.

" _Fasta vas_."

She glanced up at him and looked like she was about to ask what was wrong when she followed his eyes and saw what he was looking at. He looked back at her, and his heart began to race when he said, "Rhanon, why didn't you tell me you were...? I wouldn't have moved so fast if I'd known. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She continued to smile and shook her head. "Did it sound like I was complaining?"

No. It absolutely did not. He should have known better than to assume anything they did last night was in any way unpleasant for her.

The sound of the Chantry bell ringing caused Rhanon to groan and she said, "I don't want to go. _Elger'nan_ , sometimes I wish I could just _stop_ being the Inquisitor."

He tucked a lock of her messy hair behind her ear and asked, "Would you _really_ leave the job to someone else?"

She sighed and shot him a playful glare. "Shut up."

He smiled at her as she climbed to her feet and gathered her clothes. He figured he might as well follow suit and when they were both dressed, they climbed out of the rafters and she scrambled to do something with her hair. Once she was satisfied, she looked like she was about to turn to leave, but she stopped. Her eyes met his, and he audibly gasped when she took him by his coat, spun him around, and pushed him against the wall next to the door. Her lips were on his before he could even register what had happened, and while he was shocked, he wasn't exactly complaining.

The kiss was over all too quickly, but she immediately made up for the briefness of it by saying, " _Ar lath ma vhen'an_."

He knew little elven, but there was no way he _wouldn't_ recognize that phrase. He'd been sure she'd never actually say the words out loud, but he'd never been so happy to be wrong. She released his coat and tried to walk away, but she wasn't getting off that easy. He took her wrist and pulled her back to him, returning the favor and beaming at the small moan that leaked from her lips at the unexpected second kiss.

When their lips parted again, he met her eyes when he said, "You really thought I was going to let you leave without saying that I love you too?"  

Her cheeks burned a deeper red than he'd ever seen before, and her eyes darted momentarily to the floor before she answered, "No. I just wanted to see if you were gonna prove me right or wrong."

He took a lock of her hair between his fingers and said, "Nice to know that you're still _just_ as impossible as you were when I met you."

She smirked before turning to leave, and as she passed through the door, he found himself very much on the same page as her. As selfish as it was, he longed for that days that he no longer had to share her with anyone, so he resolved to do everything he could to help her end this war as quickly as possible. That way, she wouldn't be needed as the Inquisitor and their lives could be just that: _theirs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so that's it. As I said, I've had this written for a while, but I wanted to upload it here instead of Fanfiction because I like this site better. 
> 
> If you like this fic and would like to see me write the Trespasser sequel, leave a comment and let me know. If enough people say they want it, I'll write it.


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